\ 


I    . 

j 


MISS  SUMMERS'  WINDOW, 

AND    OTHER   PAPERS. 


MISS  ALVIRA  SLIMMENS, 


MILLINER 


MISS   SUMMERS'  ¥IKDO¥, 


AND  OTHER  PAPERS. 


BY   MRS.    MARK   PEABODY. 


^.umoroits  Illustrations  from  JDrst^ns  %$3.  HI- 


NEW    YORK: 

DERBY  &  JACKSON,  119  NASSAU  STREET, 

1859. 


Entered   Recording  it  Act  of  Congress,  in  the    year   1859,  !>y 

DERBY  &  JACKSON", 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  South 
District  of  New  York. 


W.  II.  TINSON,  Stereo:  yper.  OEO.  KTSSELL  &  Co.,  Printers. 


CONTENTS. 


MISS  SLIMMENS'S  WINDOW,         .        .  .  .  .9 

THE  TALLOW  FAMILY  IN  AMERICA,.  .  .  .161 

LUCY  IN  THE  CITY,       .         .        .        .  .  .  .229 

MR  FITZ  FOOM  IN  THE  COUNTRY,      .  .  .  .289 


MISS  SLIMMENS'S  WINDO¥. 


WHEN  Miss  Slimmens  first  hung  out  her 
sign    as    Fashionable   Milliner,  it   was 
adorned  with  a  bonnet  after  the  following  pat 
tern: 


ASHIONABLEixqvllLUNERY 


The  patterns  inside  of  the  shop-window  have 
changed  very  frequently  since    then ;    but   the 
1*  9 


10 

sign  remains  as  it  was,  except  that  its  pristine 
glory  is  nearly  obliterated  by  the  wear  and  tear 
of  the  weather.  But,  if  the  bright  yellow  of  the 
bonnet  is  faded,  and  its  sky-blue  bows  are 
scarcely  discernible,  so  have  the  roses  faded  that 
once  bloomed  on  the  cheeks  of  Miss"  Slimmens  ; 
and  she  has  been  compelled,  for  the  last  ten  years 
at  least,  to  resort  to  "  artificials."  She  bleaches 
and  trims  to  perfection — herself,  as  well  as  her 
bonnets ;  despite  which,  some  of  her  neighbors 
have  been  heard  to  insinuate  that  the  smell  of 
brimstone  about  her  premises  did  not  proceed 
entirely  from  the  covered  barrel  which  sets  in 
the  back  yard,  and  in  which  there  are  usually 
two  or  three  wrecks  of  Leghorn  hanging,  as 
slimp  and  melancholy  as  the  prospects  of  Miss 
Slimmens  herself. 


CHAPTER  L 


T  HEBE'S  Stebbins's  house  been  shut  up 
three  days,  and  not  a  sign  of  life  about  it. 
I  wonder  where  he's  sent  the  children  to  ?  I  sup 
pose  to  their  grandmother's.  Poor  little  things ! 
it's  cruel  to  think  of  their  being  orphans,  and  no 
telling  what  kind  of  a  stepmother  they'll  get  to 
knock  'em  and  beat 'em  around,  and  schinch  'em  in 
clothes  and  vittals.  However,  maybe  their  pros 
pects  is  not  so  bad  as  they  might  be ;  perhaps 
they're  soon  agoing  to  have  somebody  to  look 
after  'em  who  never  had  the  name  of  taking  the 
advantage  of  anybody,  let  alone  stepchildren. 
Do  you  know  why  Stebbins  had  his  house 
painted  straw  color,  instid  of  white,  and  that 
sweet  little  portcullis  put  over  the  front  door  ? 
If  you  don't,  somebody  does.  It  was  only  the 
day  before  he  had  the  men  to  work,  he  says  to 


12 

me,  "  Alvira" — Stebbins  has  called  me  by  my 
given  name  ever  since  his  wife  died — "  supposing 
you  was  going  to  have  a  house  painted,  what 
color  would  you  prefer  ?"     "  La,  now  !"  said  I, 
"  people's  tastes  differ ;  and,  since  the  house  isn't 
mine,  and  nobody  has  ever  said  it  was  going  to 
be  mine,  what  do  you  care  what  color  I  like 
best  2"     "  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  knew  you  was  con 
sidered  the  tastiest  person  in  the  village,  used  to 
all  sorts  of  pretty  colors  in  ribbons  and  trimmin's, 
and,  as  I  don't  purfess  to  have  much  knowledge 
of  such  things  myself,  I  thought  I'd  ask  you." 
"Wasn't  that  a  delicate  way,  now,  of  managing 
the  matter,  and  letting  the  person  most  interested 
know  that  he'd  like  her  opinion  ?     I  declare,  my 
respect  for  Stebbins  riz  considerably !  though  I'd 
always  thought  well  of  him  as  a  good  man  to  his 
family,  and  a  stiddy,  industrious  person,  not  bad- 
looking,  either,  though  rather  old  for  a  girl  in 
her  twenties.     Let's  see  ?  he  must  be  full  forty 
year  old  ;  and  that  would  be  fourteen  years  dif 
ference.     So  then  I  told  him  I  was  sick  of  these 
everlasting  white  houses,  and  that  I  thought 
peach-bloom  or  straw-color  would  look  sweetly, 
and  he  thanked  me,  and  asked  if  I  could  suggest 
any  other  improvement ;  and  I  fairly  blushed  at 


MISS    SLIMHENS'S   WINDOW.  13 

having  him  putting  such  questions  to  me,  and  I 
said :  "  Oh,  Mr.  Stebbins,  if  you'd  really  like  my 
ideas  on  the  subject,  I  think  a  handsome  port 
cullis  over  the  front  door  would  make  your  house 
almost  equal  to  Squire  Higgins's."  "  The  very 
thing !"  said  he  ;  "  and,  if  it  don't  cost  too  much, 
I  shall  have  one  right  away." 

What's  that  you  say,  Clara  Brown  ?  "  Steb 
bins  is  apt  to  look  at  the  cost  of  a  thing  before  he 
gets  it."  Supposing  he  is,  then ;  so  is  any  pru 
dent  man;  they'd  be  a  fool  not  to.  I  guess 
there's  some  as  have  to  work  in  this  shop  for 
seventy-five  cents  a  week  and  their  board  would 
be  glad  of  a  chance  to  help  spend  what  he's  been 
so  prudential  as  to  lay  up.  Mind  that  shir  you're 
running.  You're  getting  it  as  crooked  as  one  of 
Tim  Button's  stories  ;  and  that  bunnit  is  for  Mrs. 
Martingall,  the  particularest  of  all  my  cus 
tomers. 

What  has  Stebbins  gone  out  of  town  for?  I 
haven't  insinuated  that  I  knew,  have  I?  He 
may  be  gone  to  Boston  to  get  a  new  set  of  hair- 
bottomed  chairs  and  a  carpet  for  the  front  room 
before  a  certain  ceremony  comes  off;  but  that's 
not  saying  that  he  has,  nor  that  I  know  anything 
about  his'  business.  I  may  be  going  to  make  a 


u 

wedding-bunnit  for  somebody  not  far  away  from 
this  chair,  out  of  this  piece  of  white  satin ;  but 
that's  not  saying  that  I  am  going  to.  Look  here, 
Dora  Adams,  if  you  don't  quit  that  everlasting 
giggling  and  snorting  out  a  laughing,  you'll  quit 
my  shop.  How  much  work  do  you  suppose  you 
get  done  in  a  day,  between  looking  at  them  red 
danglers  that  you  set  up  half  the  night  to  put  in 
papers,  and  snickering  at  goodness  knows  what 
every  five  minutes  ?  "  Your  hair  isn't  red ;  it's 
orborn  and  curls  naturally  ?"  Humph !  perhaps 
you'll  get  some  fine  young  man  to  believe  that, 
but  not  immejetly. 

Just  see  that  little,  stuck-up  Laura  Griggs  trot 
ting  along  to  school  in  her  all-wool  de  laine  dress, 
plenty  good  enough  for  Sundays.  Her  mother 
just  does  it  to  spite  better  people ;  but,  if  what 
report  says  is  true,  she'll  soon  be  in  the  fix  of  the 
man  that  bit  off  his  nose  to  spite  his  face.  It's 
no  matter  what  I  mean.  I'm  never  the  first  to 
spread  bad  news ;  and  I  don't  intend  to  be  now. 
People  that  live  beyond  their  means  must  expect 
to  be  brought  up  with  a  short  turn  some  time. 
When  folks  gets  to  sending  to  Boston  and  Lowell 
for  their  bunnits,  because  there's  nothing  in  their 
own  village  good  enough  for  'em,  it's  time 


15 

Wonder 'whose  dog  that  can  be?  Girls,  run 
here,  and  look,  before  he  gets  past  the  corner ; 
that  one  with  the  crimpy  tale,  black  and  white. 
Did  either  of  you  ever  see  it  before?  "]STo?" 
Well,  neither  did  I;  and  now  somebody's  got 
company,  or  somebody's  been  buying  him.  It's 
curious  his  master  wasn't  with  him;  being  a 
strange  dog,  so,  he'd  be  apt  to  have  somebody 
with  him  to  keep  watch  of  him.  He  couldn't  be 
a  stray  dog ;  he  run  along  too  contented  for  that. 
He's  a  beautiful  fellow;  such  long,  silky  hair, 
such  intelligent  eyes,  and  such  a  curly — gracious ! 
here  he  comes!  not  the  dog,  but  his  master! 
Yes,  that  must  be  him,  for  he's  a  stranger,  and 
now  he's  whistling  to  him  ;  and  he's  got  on  one 
of  them  new-fangled  overcoats,,  and  is  so  stylish  ! 
Dear  ine !  I  wish  I  knew  who  he  was  visiting, 
and  what  brought  him  to  Pennyville,  and  how 
long  he-was  going  to  stay.  Goodness !  he  looked 
right  straight  in  the  window ;  and  he  must  have 
seen  something  to  admire,  for  he  kept  on  looking 
full  a  minute.  Girls,  what  are  you  peaking  over 
my  shoulder  for  ?  Get  back  to  your  work,  you 
lazy,  giggling  things  !  I  declare,  I  shall  go  crazy 
long  before  I'm  thirty  years  old,  if  I  have  to  keep 
track  of  two  such  idle  snips !  He's  gone  round 


16  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

the  corner,  now,  toward  Squire  Higgins's.  If 
Sabina  Higgins  caught  that  fish  when  she  was 
away  to  her  uncle's,  she  did  more  than  I  gave 
her  credit  for.  Hand  me  that  Leghorn  flat.  It's 
to  be  called  for  at  sundown,  and  I've  not  made 
the  first  bow  yet,  nor  put  in  the  lining.  If  there 
wasn't  so  much  gab  going  on  in  this  shop,  there'd 
be  more  work.  I  don't  see  what  they  wanted 
the  flat  so  particularly  to-night  for.  There's  no 
picnic  nor  nothing  going  off  that  I've  heard  of, 
and  it's  three  days  to  Sunday.  Maybe  Celestia's 
going  to  town  with  her  father  when  he  takes  his 
grain  to  market.  It's  always  hurry!  hurry! 
hurry  !  Everybody  hurries  the  milliner,  just  for 
the  fun  of  it,  I  believe.  There's  one  thing, 
Alvira  Slimmens  don't  intend  to  be  their  slave 
much  longer.  She  sighs  for  the  repose  of  a 
straw-colored  house,  with  a  white  portcullis  to 
shade  it,  like  the  satin  cape  of  a  Leghorn^bunnit. 
What's  that  ?  "  getting  poetical  ?"  Supposing  I 
am  ?  Young  people  mostly  are  occasionally ; 
and  I  don't  see  what's  to  prevent.  There  are 
but  few  in  the  interesting  situation  of  an  engage 
ment  but  feels  inclined,  at  times,  to  express  their 
feelings  in  verse.  There  was  some  lines  by  some 
body  to  somebody  .in  the  last  number  of  the 


MISS   SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW.  IT 

"  Penny ville  Eagle,"  signed  "J.  S.;"  and,  if 
"  J.  S."  don't  stand  for  Joshua  Stebbins,  what 
does  it  stand  for  ?  I've  answered  them  already, 
and  shall  send  the  verses  over  to  the  printer's  to 
night  ;  but  I  wouldn't  have  anybody  know  for 
the  world  that  I  was  an  authoress.  I  wouldn't 
read  'em  to  anybody  if  I  was  asked ;  but  I'll  re 
cite  the  last  verse,  because  I  know  you'd  like  tc 
hear  it : 

"Long  as  there's  water  in  the  sea, 

Or  planets  in  the  heavens, 
My  heart  shall  only  beat  for  thee, 
My  voice  shall  murmur  ********»» 

I've  left  the  last  word  stars,  so  that  the  public 
might  not  perceive  too  much  of  what  is  too  sacred 
to  betray.  That  blue  ribbon,  Clara !  Blue  is  a 
sweet  color.  The  language  of  blue  is  constancy. 
It's  so  romantic  to  have  the  virgin  affections  true 

to  one 

For  the  land's  sake !  as  true  as  I'm  alive,  if 
there  isn't  Stebbins  come  home — in  a  buggy,  too 
— and  a  woman  with  him  that  ain't  his  mother ! 
She's  got  white  ribbin  on  her  bunnit  and  a  white 
veil ;  and  he's  helping  her  out  as  if  he  was  tread 
ing  on  eggs.  "She  looks  like  a  bride,"  hey? 


18 

was  that  what  you  said  ?  She  does,  that's  a  fact ; 
and  I'll  bet  that  heartless  Stebbins  has  been  up 
and  getting  married,  without  letting  anybody 
know  it,  and  his  first  wife  scarcely  cold  in  her 
grave.  It's  just  ten  months  Tuesday  since  the 
funeral,  when  he  took  on  so  hard,  the  old  hypo 
crite  !  I  declare  it  makes  me  faint  and  sick  to 
think  of  it ;  but  I'm  sure  I  need  not  be  surprised, 
for  he  asked  me  long  ago  to  take  her  place,  but 
I  refused  him,  with  the  uttermost  indignation. 
I  told  him  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself, 
and  he  a  widower  such  a  brief  length  o'  time. 
Joshua  Stebbins  must  a  took  me  for  a  bigger 
fool  than  I  am,  to  expect  I  was  going  to  take  up 
with,  a  crooked  stick  at  last,  and  two  freckle- 
faced,  quarrelsome,  hateful  little  brats  besides. 
I  guess  his  new  wife  didn't  know  what  she  was 
coming  home  to  ;  them  children  is  the  pest  of  the 
neighborhood.  Humph!  he  helps  her  up  the 
steps  under  that  portcullis  mighty  pleasant  now, 
and  I  suppose  she's  admiring  things ;  but  if  she 
don't  wait  many  a  month  before  the  stingy  cretur 
gets  anything  more,  and  if  she  doesn't  have  to 
wear  faded  finery  after  a  while,  then  I  lose  my 
guess.  "  You  thought  I  approved  Mr.  Stebbins's 
prudence  ?"  So  I  do  approve  of  a  proper  degree 


MISS    SLDIMENS'S    WINDOW.  19 

of  prudence  in  anybody ;  but  nobody  ever  heard 
me  say  I  upheld  the  right-up-and-down  meanness 
of  that  man — his  stinginess.  Why,  he'd  steal 
the  cents  off  a  dead  man's  eyes,  for  all  I  knew ! 
and  I  don't  wish  you  to  say  again  that  I  approve 
of  him. 

She's  minced  into  the  house,  now,  and  he's 
tied  his  horse  and  gone  in  with  her.  I  hope 
you'll  be  able  to  keep  your  eyes  on  your  work, 
now  there's  no  more  to  be  seen.  It  seems  as  if 
my  window  was  made  for  nothing  in  the  world 
but  for  my  apprentices  to  gap  out  at  everything 
and-everybody.  There  never  was  a  woman  tor 
mented  with  two  such  idle  minxes  as  you  girls. 
Clara  Brown,  you're  doing  that  all  wrong !  !Nb,  I 
didn't  tell  you  to  do  it  that  way,  neither.  What 
do  you  mean  by  contradicting  me?  You  will 
finish  that  job,  now,  before  you  go  to  bed,  if  it 
takes  you  till  three  o'clock  in  the  mornin' ;  I 
won't  pay  girls  for  whispering,  and  talking,  and 
looking  out  the  window ;  I  don't  do  it  myself, 
and  I  don't  allow  it  in  others.  I  can  just  tell 
you  what  it  is,  I  shan't  try  to  get  this  flat  trimmed 
for  that  high-flyer  of  a  young  miss  ;  if  she's  dis 
appointed,  it's  good  enough  for  her.  My  head 
aches,  and  I  ain't  a-going  to  take  another  stitch 


20  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

to-day.  Dora ! — do  you  hear  me  ? — go  and  put 
over  the  kettle ;  I  want  a  good,  strong  cup  o'  tea. 
Don't  bother  me  with  questions ;  I  ain't  going  to 
speak  again  this  evening.  I'm  tired  of  your 
gabble,  and  I  want  silence  for  once  in  my  life ; 
and  now,  because  you  can't  talk,  talk,  talk,  I 
suppose  you're  wondering  and  wonderiag  who 
the  bride  is,  and  what  her  name  was,  and  how 
she  looks,  and  where  she  come  from,  and  how 
old  she  is,  and  what  they're  a-getting  for  sup 
per,  and  whether  you'll  have  a  piece  of  the  wed 
ding-cake,  and  how  he  happened  to  get  acquainted 
with  her;  but  I'd  jest  advise  you  to  mind  your 
own  business,  and  let  other  people's  alone.  I 
won't  have  it;  so  just  quit  it.  You  needn't  be 
setting  that  tea  to  steeping  just  yet.  I'm  going 
to  throw  on  my  bunnit,  and  run  over  and  call.  I 
want  to  be  the  first  to  congratulate  'em,  just  to 
show  Joshua  Stebbins  that  I  don't  care  a  pin  for 
him;  though  if  somebody  was  a  mind  to  sew 
him  for  a  brich  of  promise,  she  might  kick  up  a 
pretty  muss  in  Penny ville ;  but  you  can't  catch 
old  birds  with  chaff,  nor  Alvira  Slimmens  with 
a  widower. 


CHAPTER   II. 

MISS    SLIMMENS   HAS   HOPES. 

ISN'T  that  old  Dr.  Greene — yes,  it  is — coming 
out  of  Peters's?  Of  course,  Sarah  Peters's 
got  another  baby !  She  and  Queen  Yictory  have 
run  about  an  equal  match,  though  I  believe  she's 
beat  the  queen  by  this  last  one ;  yes,  this  is  her 
ninth.  Well,'  I  never  thought  she'd  come  to  that 
when  she  and  I  used  to  be  girls  together — that 
is,  she  was  a  great  big,  and  I  was  a  very  little, 
girl.  It  used  to  make  her  as  mad  as  fire  when 
she  had  to  tend  any  of  her  own  little  sisters  and 
brothers ;  she  often  said  she  hated  young  ones, 
and  I  hope  she's  got  enough  -of  'em  now.  That 
comes  of  her  not  following  my  example,  and  jest 
saying  "  No  !"  right  out,  every  time  a  simpleton 
of -a  male  cretur,  in  pantaloons,  come  a-sugaring 
around  and  wanting  to  send  for  the  minister. 

The  pertinasty  of  some  men  is  surprisin' !     If  1 

21 


22 

hadn't  fit  and  fit  against  it,  I  might  have  been 
seduced  into  matrimony  myself,  and  been  in  the 
same  fix  she  is  this  blessed  minit.  Good  Lord ! 
I  ought  to  be  thankful  for  my  delivery  ;  it's  bad 
enough  bleaching,  and  trimming,  and  making  up 
bunnits  for  a  living,  but  it's  not  quite  so  bad  as 
nine  squalling,  eating,  teasing,  worrying  plagues 
to  cook  and  mend  for.  The  more  I  think  on  it, 
the  more  I  thank  my  stars  that  I  gave  Stebbins 
the  mitten  as  flat  as  I  did. 

Yes,  it's  another  baby,  sure  enough ;  do  hear 
the  little  panther  yell !  I  wish  they'd  keep  their 
windows  shut,  distracting  decent  people  with 
their  hullabaloo.  If  there's  anything  on  airth  I 
hate  and  despise,  it's  a  little  squirming,  kicking, 
piny-faced,  screeching  baby.  If  I  had  that  little 
red  thing  over  here,  I'd  use  it  for  a  pincushion. 
"What's  that,  Clara  Brown  ?  "  You  love  the  inno 
cent  things,  and  hope  you'll  get  married  some  of 
these  days,  and»have  one  of  your  own  ?"  Ugh  ! 
I've  a  notion  to  turn  you  out  of  my  shop,  you 
indelicate,  immodest  young  woman,  you !  "What 
is  the  females  of  the  present  day  coming  to,  when 
a  chit  of  seventeen  can  confess  that  she  ever  even 
thought  of  such  a  thing  ?  If  I  ever  should  be  so 
overcome  by  persuasion  as  to  consent  to  share  the 


23 

home  of  some  being  of  tlie  opposite  sex,  I  trust 
that  our  affections  will  be  of  too  spirituous  a 
character  to  fulminate  in  a  cradle  and  a  bundle 
of  squalling  red  flannel.  Hey?  I  heard  that 
whisper,  Dora  Adamsi  You  said — and  you 
needn't  deny  it — that  if  I  waited  much  longer, 
you  guessed  there  wouldn't  be  any  danger. 
What  did  you  mean  by  that  ?  say  !  what  did  you 
mean?  If  you  think  your  red  curls  and  your 
sassy  ways  is  going  to  excuse  impudence  to  them 
that  employs  you,  you're  mistaken ;  and  you've 
got  to  tell  what  you  meant  by  that  speech. 
"You  meant  that  my  beaux  would  become  dis 
couraged,  and  be  obleeged  to  court  somebody 
else?"  Oh,  that's  not  so  bad  as  it  might  have 
been  if  you'd  been  saying  what  doesn't  become 
you.  I  suppose  you're  looking  for'ard  to  a 
chance,  and  maybe  you'll  get  one  when  you  grow 
out  of  looking  so  dowdy  and  fat.  Your  cheeks 
are  like  two  poppies,  and  your  waist  is  almost  as 
big  again  as  it  ought  to  be ;  if  I  were  in  your 
place,  I'd  drink  vinegar.  There!  you  needn't 
roll  them  great  eyes  of  yours  over  to  Clara,  as 
much  as  to  say  there  is  plenty  of  vinegar  about. 
What  did  Celestia  say  because  she  didn't  get  her 
leghorn  last  night?  "Almost  cried,"  hey,  and 


24 

you  "  felt  so  sorry  for  her  that  you  went  to  work 
and  finished  it  ?"  Another  one  of  your  liberties, 
when  you  knew  that  I  left  it  on  purpose  to  disap 
point  her.  It  makes  these  chits  altogether  too 
selfish  and  conceited  to  have  all  their  whims 
humored ;  a  little  vexation  of  spirit  is  good  for 
'em,  once  in  a  ~wThile. 

How  did  I  like  Stebbins's  new  wife  ?  I've  no 
doubt  he's  done  as  well  as  an  old  widower  with 
two  young  ones  could. expect  to.  I  shouldn't 
think  she  was  over  thirty,  and  some  folks  might 
think  she  was  good-looking,  but  her  eyes  is  too 
black  and  sparkly,  and  her  nose  is  pug,  and  she's 
too  plump  to  have  a  particle  of  style  about  her. 
She's  dreadful  blushing  and  smiling  now,  but  if 
them  children  don't  see  hard  times  before  a  year's 
gone  by,  then  Alvira  Slimmens  isn't  good  at 
guessing.  Stebbins  looked  as  if  he'd  like  to 
crawl  through  an  auger-hole  when  he  seen  it  was 
me,  and  he  colored  up  like  a  beet  when  he  intro 
duced  Mrs.  Stebbins.  I  expect  he  saw  I  was 
eyeing  her  mighty  sharp,  for  he  kept  hitching 
about,  as  uneasy  as  a  fish  out  of  water ;  but  I 
catched  them  smiling  in  their  sleeves  when  they 
thought  I  didn't  take  notice.  I  guess  she  was 
some  poor  body,  that  couldn't  do  any  better,  for 


25 

her  bunnit  was  as  much,  as  three  months  behind 
the  fashion,  and  her  silk  gown  was  a  kind  of  a 
slimsy  thing.  Did  I  leave  that  poetry  I  was 
speaking  of  at  the  printing-office,  on  my  way 
home  ?  Mercy  sake  alive  !  you're  ruining  that 
piece  of  satin,  you  careless  thing !  Lay  it  down, 
and  go  and  bring  me  them  satins,  and  hand  me 
that  ruche,  and  pick  up  them  scraps  off  the 
carpet. 

"  La  !  Miss  Peters's  got  another  baby.  As 
soon's  I  got  my  work  done,  I  must  drop  in  and 
see  how  she's  getting  along.  The  poor  creture 
can't  have  much  life  left  in  her;  and  as  for 
him,  I  don't  see  how  he  contrives  to  find  bread 
and  butter  for  so  many  mouths.  I've  a  good 
notion  to  take  her  over  some  of  my  quince-jelly 
and  one  of  them  young  chickens.  !No  I  won't, 
neither  ;  I'm  so  provoked  at  her  for  being  such  a 
fool  1  She'll  expect  me  to  hold  the  young  one, 
and  kiss  it,  and  make  a  fuss  over  it,  when  I'd 
rather  choke  the  little  rat.  If  ever  there  was  a 
torment  sent  upon  earth,  it's  children.  They're 
worse  than  the  seven  plagues  of  Egypt — no 
peace,  no  quiet,  no  order  where  they  are — greas 
ing  you  up,  and  falling  down  and  bumping  them 
selves,  scratching  each  other,  littering  up  the 
2 


floor,  taking  the  measles,  and  the  chickenpox,  and 
the  scarlet  fever,  wearing  out  their  clothes,  telling 
tales,  stealing  your  sugar  and  preserves,  crying 
with  the  stomach-ache,  taking  fits  in  the  night, 
falling  in  the  creek  and  getting  drowned,  they 
make  a  perfect  panorama ;  and  I  only  wonder 
their  mothers  don't  go  crazy  with  insanity. 
"When  there's  any  prospects  of  my  having  any, 
the  Lord  deliver  me  !  Miss  Peters's  got  Mother 
Lummis  to  nuss  her ;  I  see  her  pass  through  the 
hall  just  now.  There's  one  of  the  children  out 
in  the  street;  I'll  just  call  her  over,  and  find  out 
whether  it's  a  girl  or  a  boy.  So !  you've  got  a 
little  sister,  have  you?  oh!  a  brother?  Nice 
little  fellow,  isn't  he  ?  Here  !  take  this  piece  of 
pretty  red  silk  for  your  patchwork,  and  run 
home,  now.  Tell  your  ma  I'll  be  over  to  see  her 
before  night.  I  s'pose  I  ought  to  take  her  some 
thing  to  cheer  her  up,  though  I  don't  pity  her 
one  bit.  If  there's  anything  that  I'm  continually 
and  everlastingly  thankful  about,  it  is  that  I've 
kept  out  of  such  scrapes. 

Did  you  ever  !  if  there  ain't  Miss  Purson  com 
ing  across  the  road,  with  that  bunnit  of  hers  in  a 
newspaper,  as  usual.  I've  altered  that  bunnit 
once  a  year,  and  trimmed  it  twice  a  year,  for  the 


27 

last — well,  time  out  of  mind !  I  do  wish  she'd 
get  a  new  one ;  I'm  tired  of  that  Leghorn  bunnit ; 
it's  like  some  people's  tongues — there's  no  end  to 
it.  The  first  time  she  brought  it,  it  was  trimmed 
with  plum-colored  satin-ribbin  and  gold  artifi 
cials,  and  I  bleached  it  for  her,  and  put  the  same 
trirnmin's  back  on.  I've  sewed  braid  on  to  make 
it  larger,  and  I've  took  braid  off  to  make  it 
smaller ;  It's  been  on  the  block  more  times  'an 
I've  got  fingers.  I  did  hope  she'd  patternize  me, 
and  open  her  heart  far  enough  to  buy  a  new  one 
out-and-out,  this  fall.  I've  a  notion  to  tell  her 
the  straw's  got  so  rotten  it  won't  bear  no  more 
pressin'.  Oh,  good-morning.  Miss  Purson !  Fine 
day !  S'pose  you've  come  to  look  at  the  new 
style  of  bunnits.  Most  all  the  gentility  of 
Penny ville  has  been  in  to  take  a  look  and  make 
their  choices ;  but  there's  some  left,  that'll  suit 
you,  I  guess,  for  all  you're  so  insiduous.  What ! 
Thought  you'd  have  your  Tuscan  bleached  over 
and  fixed  up  a  little  ?  Thought  I  told  you,  the 
last  time,  'twould  never  stand  another  doin'  over. 
I'd  a  great  mind  to  charge  you  two  shillin's 
extra,  last  fall,  I  had  so  much  bother  to  keep  it 
stuck  together.  If  you  want  that  thing  teched 
again,  you'd  better  take  it  to  Miss  BunglSby'a 


28 


shop ;  she'll  be  able  to  do  it  justice ;  and  then 
she's  so  fashionable — gets  her  patterns  after  she 
has  a  good  chance  to  steal  mine,  and  puts  seek  an 
air  on  things !  I  think  she'd  make  your  old 
Tuscan  look  egregious.  You'd  like  a  new  bunnit, 
if  Mr.  Purson  could  spare  the  money  ?  Just  tell 
him  for  me,  that  if  he  can't  afford  his  wife  a 
bunnit  once  in  eight  years,  he'd  better  quit  car 
pentering,  and  go  to  sawing  wood ;  that  he 
needn't  aspire  to  the  respectability  of  Pennyville 
any  longer.  Now,  look  here !  here's  a  sweet 
thing — a  Florence  braid,  with  a  lovely  ruche,  and 
all  this  bugle  lace  around  the  cape  and  brim, 
besides  the  feather.  I  showed  it  to  Miss  Grant, 
and  she  pronounced  it  superfluous.  She  said 
maybe  she'd  conclude  to  take  it  the  next  time 
she  was  in ;  but  I  hinted  to  her  that  it  was  sptfken 
for,  because  I  knew  it  would  just  suit  your  style 
and  complexion,  and  I  like  to  obleege  my  old  cus 
tomers.  I  asked  her  six  and  a  half  for  it,  but 
you  may  have  it  for  six,  seeing  it's  you,  but  I 
shan't  make  a  cent  on  it. 

Good  Lord !  if  there  ain't  a  buggy  running 
away!  do  see  how  he  kicks!  he  will  certainly 
be  thrown  out!  he's  making  straight  for  that  pile 
of  brick  as  he  can  go !  I  do  wonder  who  it  can 


29 

be !  It's  a  horse  from  the  liberty-stable,  and  yes  f 
goodness  gracious!  it's  that  handsome  stranger 
that  had  that  curly  dog  with  the — oh,  hevings  ! 
there  he  goes,  smash-bang,  right  into  the  bricks ! 
He's  killed  now,  I  do  believe !  I'm  so  scart,  I 
don't  know  what  I'm  a  saying.  He's  certainly 
killed !  see  him  tearing  down  the  streets,  and 
the  spokes  a  flying,  and  the  poor  young  gentle 
man  picking  himself  up.  I  must  go  to  his  assis 
tance  this  minute.  It  shall  never  be  said  that 
Alvira  Slimmens  turned  an  unfortunate  young 
man  out  of  doors.  Oh,  sir !  how  do  you  feel  ? 
Are  you  faint-like?  Lean  upon  me,  upon  my 
bo — shoulder.  Dear  me !  I'm  so  flustered,  I 
don't  know  what  I'm  doing  or  saying.  Is  it 
your  head,  or  your  arm,  or  your — limb  ?  Ain't 
a  bit  hurt  ?  only  a  trifle  bruised  ?  Thank  the 
Lord !  Well,  walk  in,  and  let  me  brush  your 
coat.  It's  all  brick  dust.  Can  walk  without 
assistance  ?  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  of  it !  But  <Jon't 
over-exert  yourself — don't ! 

Clara,  Dora,  get  the  brush!  hand  it  to  me. 
There,  now,  you  look  a  little  more  like  your  pre 
sent  self.  "What  a  circumstantial  escape  you've 
had !  I  shall  never  cease  to  congratulate  myself 
that  the  shop  of  Alvira  Slimmens  stood  where  it 


30  MISS    SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW. 

could  afford  a  place  of  refuge  to  a  ship-wracked 
stranger.  Take  a  chair,  won't  you  ?  My,  your 
coat's  tore  out  at  the  arm !  Dora,  bring  a  needle 
and  some  black  silk.  No,  you  needn't  be  afraid 
of  making  trouble.  I'd  rather  mend  it  'an  not. 
Stopping  long  in  Pennyville  ?  Yisiting,  or  stop 
ping  at  the  tavern  ?  Oh,  the  tavern  !  On  busi 
ness  I  suppose  ?  Any  acquaintances  ?  Ours  is  a 
very  pedantic  village,  considered  very  rural  on 
the  outskirts,  great  deal  of  scenery  and  land 
around  it.  Perhaps  you're  an  author,  or  an  artist, 
come  to  rustify.  I've  read  so  many  sweet  stories 
about  such  things  ;  and  I  declare,  when  you  was 
thrown  out  in  that  terrible  manner,  I  felt  like 
flying  to  you,  stranger  as  you  was,  and  exclaim 
ing,  with  that  dear  Moore  : 

"  Come  rest  in  this  bosom,  my  own  stricken  deer, 
Though  the  herd  have  fled  from  thee,  thy  home  is  still  here." 

Clara  Browne,  go  in  the  other  room  this  min 
ute,  and  stay  there  till  I  recall  you.  What? 
must  you  go  ?  Well,  call  again.  I  shall  feel 
extremely  solicitary  about  your  health.  Oh,  no 
thanks  at  all,  sir !  I've  only  done  my  duty  as 
one  of  my  sex  should  do  it. 

He's  gone.     "Thou'rt  gone  from  my   sight, 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  31 

% 

like  a  beautiful  dream!"  How  earnestly  lie 
kept  looking  back,  as  if  lie  couldn't  endure  to 
tear  himself  away ;  but  lie  must  go  to  the  liberty- 
stable,  and  let  Smith  know  that  his  baulky  horse 
has  run  away.  If  there  ain't  that  sassy  Clara, 
standing  at  the  door,  looking  out  after  him,  when 
I  sent  her  in  there  because  she  kept  making  eyes 
at  him,  and  laughing  in  her  sleeve. 

My  hand  trimbles  so,  I  can  hardly  baste  this 
silk  on.  It's  come  at  last.  I  knew  it  would.  I 
knew  Alvira  Slimmens  was  destined  to  see  the 
hero  of  whom  she  has  dreamed,  about  whom  she 
has  had  many  a  ponderous  fancy — that  he  would 
come  in  some  unusual  way  ;  and  now  a  circum 
stantial  Providence  has  thrown  him  into  that 
pile  of  brick,  at  her  very  feet,  as  it  were. 

Dora  Adams,  go  over  to  Springle's,  and  get 
me  a  dozen  of  them  new-fangled  curling-clasps 
and  a  bottle  of  lavender-water ;  and  let  me  tell 
you,  once  for  all,  that,  if  you  and  Clara  don't 
quit  a  winking  at  each  other,  and  making  them 
secret  signs,  you'll  repent  it.  [Murmurs  sotto 
wee :] 

"  Oh,  there  are  tones  and  looks  that  dart 
An  instant  sunshine  through  the  heart!" 


32  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

and  that  was  the  way  I  felt.  What  a  splendid 
subjeck  for  a  poem  for  the  "  Eagle,"  to  be  called 
"  The  Runaway  Buggy !"  no !  that's  not  romantic 
enough;  "The  Fearful  Eisk !"  no!  "The 
Stranger's  Escape  !"  that's  better;  or,  "The  Cast 
away  ;  or,  the  Leap  for  Life — a  Tradegy,"  and 
sign  it  "  Alvira  S."— no !  "  A.  S."— and  send  it 
to  him.  I'll  do  it  this  very  night — write  it  while 
I'm  putting  my  hair  in  papers.  [Sings  in  an 
undertone :] 

•  "Oh,  Alvira  Slimmens, 

You'll  soon  quit  bunnits  and  trimmin's, 
Bunnits  and  triramin's, 
T-r-i-ia-m-i-n's!" 


CHAPTEE  in. 

MISS    SLIMMENS   IS   HONORED   WITH   A    SERENADE. 

FLY  around,  girls,  and  get  this  shop  in  a  little 
better  order  !  I'm  expecting  company,  this 
morning,  of  a  little  genteeler  order  than  usual. 
Them  new-fangled  curling- clasps  are  just  the 
things.  How's  my  ringlets  ?  I  think  nobody 
could  tell  'em  from  the  most  natural  kind  Any 
body  could  tell,  Clara  Brown,  that  your'n  had 
been  in  papers  all  night.  I  believe  you're  settin' 
your  cap  for  somebody,  or  you  wouldn't  take  all 
that  trouble.  "Who  be  I  expecting  ?  "Why,  who 
should  I  expect,  but  the  one  that's  the  most 
likely  to  come?  It's  altogether  probable  that 
the  common  emotions  of  gratitude  would  pr0mpt 
any  right-minded  young  gentleman  to  testify  his 
sentiments  to  his  life-preserver.  You  wasn't 
aware  that  I  had  acted  as  life-preserver  to  any 
young  gentleman  ?  Well,  if  I  didn't  exactly 

3  83 


34  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

save  the  life  of  the  stranger  who  was  throwed 
out  into  them  bricks  yesterday,  I  did  all  I  could 
toward  it ;  and  I  oifered  him  the  refuge  of  my 
shop  and  of  my — my  support ;  and  I  dusted  his 
clothes,  and  mended  his  coat,  and  made  him  fit 
to  be  seen  again  ;  and  that's  the  next  thing  to  it. 
If  I  was  in  his  place,  I'd  sue  the  keeper  of  that 
liberty-stable  for  damages,  and  get  enough  to 
set  up  housekeeping  with  ;  though  I  suspect  he's 
rich  enough  for  that  any  time  a  clay.  He  must 
be  dreadful  rich  and  aristocratic,  he'd  such  an 
air,  and  his  coat  was  cut  so  genteel.  I  almost 
wish  he  wasn't.  I  almost  wish  he  was  one  of , 
them  suffering  geniuses  I've  read  about  in  tales, 
driven  to  the  brink  of  separation  by  reduction 
in  circumstances,  and,  jest  as  he  was  on  the  pint 
of  committing  death  by  suicide,  somebody,  some 
sympathetic  being  who  had  money  laid  up  in 
the  bank,  would  step  forward,  and  rescue  him 
from  his  suspending  fate  by  the  offer  of  her 
heart  and  hand  and  six  hundred  dollars  in  the 
Bank  of  Lowell. 

Here,  Dora,  thread  this  needle  for  me.  "  Is 
my  eyesight  failing  ?"  I'm  not  aware  as  it  is, 
Miss  Impudence — don't  know  any  reason  why  it 
should.  Anybody's  hand  would  be  a  trifle  un- 


35 


stiddy  that  was  all  tremulous  with  expectancy, 
to  say  nothing  of  being  up  late  last  night,  com 
posing  poetry  on  a  certain  harrowing  event.  Do 
I  mean  the  marriage  of  Joshua  Stebbins  ?  Miss 
Adams !  never  mention  that  name  to  me  again, 
unless  you  want  to  go  home  to  your  mother. 
I've  told  you  several  times  that  I  give  that  man 
the  mitten  without  any  ceremony;  and  I'm  glad 
der  and  gladder  of  it  now  than  ever.  I  wouldn't 
have  had  him  if  his  portcullis  had  been  made  of 
gold.  Josh  Stebbins !  humph  !  the  very  name's 
enough  !  I  wish  I  knew  what  his  name  was. 

o 

He  never  thought  to  leave  it.  Of  course,  he's 
got  one,  unless  he  intends  to  appear  synony 
mously;  and  even  then  he'd  have  to  take  a  "nom 
de  feather,"  as  the  French  say.  It  isn't  feather, 
it's  plume  ?  Well  what's  the  difference  betwixt 
a  feather  and  a  plume  ?  I've  not  been  a  milliner 
for  the  last  twen — seven  years  not  to  know 
what  a  feather  is  ;  and  I  don't  ask  to  be  taught 
by  a  miss  that  ought  to  be  in  her  pantalets  yet. 

There  !  there's  a  knock  !  Wait  a  minute  till  I 
fix  iny  hair  a  little.  I  wonder  who  it  can  be ;  I 
didn't  see  any  one  pass  my  window.  Now, 
open  the  door.  Oh,  Miss  Grant  ?  how  do  you 
do?  I  was  jest  wishing  you'd  happen  along. 


36  MISS   SLIMMENS'S  WINDOW. 

Been  a  thinking  about  your  folks  for  an  hour 
back.  How's  your  poor  dear  old  grandmother — 
her  rheumatiz  is  such  an  infliction — and  the 
boys  ?  I  hear  Keuben's  going  to  start  a  singing- 
school  as  soon  as  cold  weather  and  long  evenings 
comes ;  and  I  hope  the  news  is  true,  for  I'ye  been 
thinking  of  joining  the  school  myself,  as  a  power 
ful  voice  like  mine  that's  used  to  church  music 
is  always  a  help  to  the  rest ;  that  is,  if  I'm  a  resi 
dent  of  Pennyville  at  that  time,  which  maybe  I 
shan't  be.  ISTo,  I  don't  know  as  I  expect  to  set 
up  the  millinary  business  in  any  other  spot;  but 
I  may  take  a  fancy  to  quit  it  altogether.  "  Two 
yards  of  scarlet  ribbon,  wide  " — here  it  is,  if  it 
suits  you.  It's  for  a  sash,  I  reckon,  to  wear  to 
the  party  that  I  hear  is  coming  off  next  week. 
I  sold  that  bunnit  yesterday  that  you  didn't 
exactly  fancy.  You  said  you  thought  you 
wouldn't  take  it ;  but  I'm  gettin'  up  another  to 
be  done  against  Sunday,  that  I  shaft  try  to  have 
satisfactory ;  and  I'll  promise  you  not  to  make 
another  like  it  for  anybody  in  Pennyville.  I'm 
not  particular  about  the  money  till  the  end  of 
the  month ;  your  fayther  is  always  good  pay. 
Did  you  hear  of  the  dreadful  accident  ?  "  No  2" 
Is  it  possible?  Yesterday — it  was  yesterday. 


MISS   SLIHHENS'S   WINDOW.  37 

Oh,  dear  me  !  I  haven't  got  over  it  yet !  I  ex 
pect  you'll  see  an  account  of  it  in  the  "  Eagle," 
when  it  comes  out  Saturday.  No,  they  wasn't 
killed ;  but  they  come  as  near  it  as  they  could 
and  hopelx)  survive.  You  see,  I  was  standing 
quietly  in  my  shop,  selling  that  very  bunnit, 
and  never  dreaming  of  any  trouble,  and  I  heard 
a  furious  rattling  down  the  street,  and  I  run  to 
the  door,  and  there  was  the  sweetest  dark-eyed 
young  gentleman  that  I  never  sot  eyes  on  but 
once  before,  a  stranger  in  the  place,  stopping  at 
the  tavern,  coming  dashing  down  the  road  as 
hard  as  he  could  kick,  jumping  and  tearing  like 
mad.  I  see  in  a  minute  'twas  that  baulky  horse 
from  Smith's  liberty-stable,  and  my  heart  riz  up 
in  my  mouth,  for  he's  an  ugly  creature ;  and 
there  he  was  in  such  imminent  danger,  for  he 
couldn't  guide  him  at  all,  though  he  held  on  to 
the  reins  bravely,  and  kept  his  seat  until  he 
pitched  for  that  brick  heap  across  yonder ;  and 
then  I  screamed,  for  I  give  up  all  for  lost ;  but, 
resolved  I'd  rescue  him,  or  perish  in  the  attempt, 
I  ran  right  out  in  the  road  before  the  furious 
animal,  throwed  up  my  arms,  and  would  have 
stopped  him ;  but  it  was  too  late.  He  had 
smashed  into  the  bricks,  and  the  buggy  upset ; 


38  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

and  the  gentleman  was  thrown  into  them  head 
first ;  and  I  picked  him  up  for  dead.  But,  after 
I'd  carried  him  into  the  house,  and  bathed  his 
brow  with  camfire,  and  rubbed  his  hands,  and 
unbuttoned  his  shirt-bosom  to  give  him  air,  he 
survived,  and,  after  awhile,  was  able  to  ascertain 
that  he  w^as  not  mortally  killed.  His  coat  was 
all  torn  to  flinders.  It  took  me  two  hours  to 
darn  it  up,  so  that  he  could  get  back  to  the 
tavern  with  it.  Five  and  sixpence  for  the  rib 
bon  ;  thank'ee ;  that's  right.  Tell  your  mother 
I've  got  some  dress-caps  now  that  ruther  surpass 
anything  I've  had  before.  I  sold  two  to  Squire 
Waldron's  wife,  she  liked  'em  so  well.  Good- 
day.  Come  in  to-morrow  and  get  your  bunnit. 

Two  o'clock!  This  is  the  longest  day  I've 
experienced  for  some  time.  Don't  seem  to  be 
any  business  a  doing,  neither.  I  shall  break  up 
if  things  go  on  at  this  rate.  What's  that  on  the 
other  side  of  the  road  ?  It's — no  it  ain't,  either ; 
it's  only  Jim  Wilkins.  Open  the  door,  Dora. 
There's  somebody  knocking.  Clara,  my  love, 
will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  hand  me — fiddlestick  ! 
what  a  scared-looking  little  thing !  "  Mother 
wants  a  skein  of  blue  sewing-silk."  Well,  speak 
out,  and  don't  stammer  so.  Here  it  is ;  though  I 


39 


don't  see  why  you  didn't  go  to  the  thread-and- 
needle  store,  and  not  bother  me  with  your  pen 
nies.  Alvira  Slimmens  is  not  so  poverty-stricken 
yet  as  to  be  obleeged  to  sell  a  cent's  worth  o' 
silk.  There,  go  along  with  you ! 

That's  six  times,  if  it's  once,  that  Emmeline 
Jones  has  passed  this  window  to-day.  She  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  herself,  gad,  gadding  about, 
and  her  poor  mother  at  home,  washing  for  a  liv 
ing  !  Perhaps  she  is  going  of  errands  ?  Pooh  ! 
perhaps  she  isn't.  She's  an  idle,  good-for-nothing 
girl,  I  make  no  doubt;  sailing  by  in  that  old 
shawl  as  graceful  as  if  she  was  a  princess.  She 
thinks  those  great  black  eyes  of  hers  is  going  to 
save  her  the  trouble  of  working  for  a  living,  as 
honest  people  have  to.  Some  folks  pretend  she's 
got  the  consumption ;  and  her  mother  makes  a 
fool  of  her,  nursing  her  up,  and  taking  all  the 
work  on  her  own  shoulders ;  but  if  there's  any 
two  things  I  can't  abide,  it's  pride  and  laziness, 
'specially  when  they  go  together.  Some  young 
girls  not  very  far  from  where  I'm  sitting,  may 
have  some  of  the  same  notions,  and  the  quicker 
they  get  rid  of  them  the  better,  if  they  expect 
my  patronage  and  support. 

That's  a  queer  looking  wagon,  going  by.     A 


4:0 

peddler's  cart,  most  likely.  He  can't  have  tin 
ware,  or  we  would  see  it  on  the  outside  ;  it  112 list 
be  paper,  or  patent  medicine,  or  furniture  polish, 
or  dry  goods.  And  there  goes  a  man,  trotting 
by,  as  if  he  was  going  for  the  doctor,  or  running 
away  from  the  hangman.  And  that  just  puts 
me  in  mind  that  I  see  a  reward  offered  in  a  l$Tew 
York  paper  last  week  for  the  reprehension  of  a 
fellow  who  had  been  passing  counterfeit  money. 
That  person  that  just  passed  looked  like  a  coun 
terfeiter.  His  whiskers  was  all  over  his  face, 
and  he  had  one  of  those  wicked  mustaches,  and 
his  cap  was  slouched  over  his  eyes,  and  his  horse 
was  all  in  a  foam,  he'd  been  ridin'  him  so  hard. 
"What  a  curious  coincidence  it  would  be  if  this 
should  be  the  same  one ! 

» 

Four  o'clock !  "Well-1-1 !  it  does  seem  as  if  the 
days  were  getting  longer  instead  of  shorter.  It's 
an  age  since  dinner-time.  Good  gracious  !  how 
that  startled  me  !  Go  to  the  door,  Clara.  No, 
I  haven't  any  paper — rags  !  Clear  out,  you  little 
rascal !  Here  comes  that  begging  Miss  Burrows, 
with  a  subscription  paper  as  usual.  Good  after 
noon,  Miss  Burrows.  Take  a  chair  ?  !Nb,  I  can't 
give  a  penny,  and  I  won't !  I  don't  make  my% 
own  living  now ;  the  folks  in  Penny  ville  is  get- 


4:1 

ting  too  grand  to  patternize  their  own  milliner, 
and  going  off  to  Lowell  and  Boston  for  their  best 
things,  and  I  shan't  give  one  cent  to  any  chari 
table  purpose  whatever,  and  I  don't  care  if  the 
minister  himself  hears  me  say  so.  I'm  a-going 
to  quit  the  sewin'  society  next  week,  and  take 
my  name  off  the  Missionary  Club.  Charity 
begins  to  home.  When  Pennyville  treats  me  as 
it  oughter,  then  I'll  treat  it  as  I  oughter.  Only 
last  week,  Deacon  "Walden's  wife  come  home 
with  a  velvet  hat  (  hat 's  the  word  now)  that  she 
paid  nine  dollars  for  in  Boston. 

Do  hear  that  child  squall !  If  Miss  Peters  is 
going  to  keep  on  raising  a  family,  I'll  move  my 
shop  out  of  this  neighborhood.  I've  stood  the 
screairflng  of  nine  successive  babies,  but  I  won't 
stand  a  tenth.  You're  doing  your  work  all 
wrong,  Dora.  I  won't  pay  you  your  wages  this 
week,  if  you  spoil  that  silk — and  I  really  believe 
you  have  spoiled  it.  Clara  Brown!  you've 
done  nothing  to-day  but  start,  and  stare  out  that 
window,  as  if  you  were  looking  for  a  husband  to 
happen  along.  You  don't  earn  the  salt  to  put  in 
your  porridge.  If  you  wasn't  seventeen  years 
old  I'd  box  your  ears  for  the  way  you  have  put 
that  border  in.  You  needn't  flush  up,  and  shake 


42 

back  your  hair  so  independent.  You  know  very 
well  that  you've  got  no  other  place  to  go  to ; '  so 
you'd  better  take  it  easy.  My !  if  the  little  baby 
isn't  trying  to  cry!  I  hope  she  won't  let  her 
tears  drop  on  that  silk,  because,  if  she  does,  she'll 
have  to  pay  for  the  damage  she's  done.  You're 
an  ungrateful  girl,  Clara  Brown,  and  1  tell  you, 

once  for  all 

Oh  !  how  do  you  feel,  to-day,  Mr.  —  -  ?  I 
believe  I  haven't  the  pleasure  of  knowing  your 
name  yet.  "  Mr.  Wiggleby."  Walk  in,  and 
take  a  chair,  Mr.  Wiggleby.  Clara,  dear,  place 
a  chair  for  Mr.  "Wiggleby.  Dora,  my  love,  take 
his  hat  and  cane.  We  didn't  expect  to  see  you 
to-day,  Mr.  Wiggleby ;  especially  as  we  feared 
that  your  injuries  had  proved  more  serious  than 
was  at  first  participated.  Allow  me  to  congratu 
late  you  upon  your  speedy  restoration  to  conva 
lescence.  Oh,  no  !  he !  he !  he !  indeed,  Mr. 
Wiggleby,  I  shan't  take  one  particle  of  the 
credit  upon  myself.  My  humble  efforts  were 
prompted  by  the  impulse  of  a  woman's  heart. 
You  know  what  the  poet  says,  Mr.  Wig 
gleby  ?  I  know  you  do,  now,  and  you  needn't 
attempt  to  deny  it.  Those  eyes  and  that  forrid 
betray  you  to  be  one  familiar  with  poetry  as 


43 

you  are  with  your  daily  bread.  But,  as  I  was 
saying— 

"  Oh,  woman !  in  our  hours  of  ease, 
Uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please, 
When  pain  and  anguish  wring  the  brow, 
A  ministerial  angel  thou  !" 

That  is  the  way  with  our  sex,  Mr.  Wiggleby.  If 
you  had  approached  me  in  any  ordinary  manner, 
you  would  have  found  me  "  coy"  and  "  hard  to 
please,"  for  I'm  very  bashful  before  gentlemen ; 
but  coming  as  you  did,  appealing  to  my  tender- 
est  emotions,  when  "pain  and  anguish  wrung 
your  brow,"  and  your  clothes  was  all  covered 
with  brickdust,  and  your  coat  tore,  and  I  feared 
the  worst — oh,  sir,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  ex 
press  what  I  felt  upon  that  peculiar  occasion ! 
I  always  felt  as  if  some  such  thing  was  going  to 
happen  to  me  ;  and  when  it  really  took  place,  I 
was  so  flustered  I  never  slept  a  wink  last  night. 

But  oh,  Mr.  "Wiggleby  !  I  shall  never  cease  to 
remember,  with  burning  blushes  of  diffidence 
and  regret,  the  imprudence,  the  immodesty,  I 
may  say,  into  which  my  fright  and  overwhelm 
ing  feelings  induced  me.  I  can  never  forget  it, 
but  I  beg  that  you  will ;  that  you  will  banish  it 


44 

from  your  mind  as  a  thing  that  lias  never  been, 
or  henceforth  our  future  intercourse  will  be  poi 
soned  by  the  hateful  thought  that  you  are  some 
times  thinking  of  it,  and  condemning  the  act. 
"To  what  do  I  refer?"  Oh,  Mr.  Wiggleby!  is 
it  possible  that  you  were  really  insensible  at  that 
fearful  moment?  that  you  were  not  conscious 
that  I  received  you  in  my  arms  ?  that  your  head 
was  pillowed  upon  my  troubled  bosom  ?  Then 
let  the  secret  remain  with  me !  you  shall  never 
know  it,  for  Alvira  Slimmens  would  die  before 
she  would  willingly  confess  that  a  being  of  the 
opposite  sex  had  reposed,  even  for  a  moment, 
upon  her  heart !  much  less,  that  in  a  moment  of 
distraction,  she  had  pressed  her  lips  to  his  bleed 
ing  brow.  I  feel  as  if  a  mountain  was  lifted  oft 
my  breast,  since  I  have  ascertained  that  you  are 
not  aware  of  my  indiscretion. 

Clara,  darling,  you  may  go  and  see  about  pre 
paring  the  tea.  You  will  stay  to  tea,  will  you 
not,  Mr.  "Wiggleby  ?  "We  shall  feel  too  much 
honored ;  and,  indeed,  we  can't  think  of  letting 
you  go.  There  !  I  thought  we  could  persuade 
you !  Dora,  I  presume  Clara  will  need  your 
assistance.  You  can  lay  aside  your  work,  and 
go  and  remain  with  her  till  supper  is  ready. 


MISS   SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  4:5 

"  What  are  the  names  of  those  young  ladies  ?" 
You  make  me  smile,  for  really  I  never  think  of 
them  except  as  children ;  but  they  are  growing 
up,  I  believe.  Clara  and  Dora,  two  very  pretty 
names ;  and  they  are  nice  enough. girls,  but  fool 
ish  and  giddy,  like  all  apprentices.  How  do  you 
like  our  village  to-day  ?  Have  you  perambulated 
about  it  sufficiently  to  be  familiar  with  its  prin 
cipal  inducements  ?  I  trust  you  will  find  charms 
to  retain  you  here  a  number  of  weeks.  It's  so 
seldom  we  have  a  stranger  among  us,  that  he  is 
quite  a  treat,  especially  to  me,  who  feel  so  much 
the  want  of  congenial,  intelligent  society  among 
the  young  of  my  own  age.  Did  you  say  you 
was  a  painter,  Mr.  Wiggleby  ?  ]STo  ?  I  thought 
perhaps  you  might  be.  What  is  your  place  of 
residing,  wThen  you  are  at. home  ?  Boston  !  Al 
low  me  to  congratulate  you  upon  being  a  citizen 
of  the  "  Atkins  of  America,"  as  our  speaker  said, 
at  the  last  meeting  of  our  Lyceum.  You  must 
attend  our  Lyceum,  Mr.  Wiggleby.  We  are 
quite  proud  of  it.  We  hare  some  excellent  com 
positions,  and  some  of  the  most  instructive  and 
exciting  discussions.  All  our  leading  people 
take  a  part  in  it,  including  the  minister  and 


46 

Squire  Grant ;  and  there  is  an  occasional  poeti 
cal  suffusion  from — I  won't  say  who.  It's  a 
great  secret ;  and  there's  great  curiosity  among 
the  young  men  to  find  out  who  their  "  talented 
and  unknown  contributor"  is.  You  wouldn't 
guess  it  was  me,  now,  would  you,  Mr.  Wiggleby  ? 
1  don't  know  that  there's  anything  romantic  in 
my  appearance,  but  my  ringlets  and  my  pensive 
expression.  Oh,  now,  you  get  out,  Mr.  "Wig 
gleby  !  you're  only  trying  to  flatter  me  !  Would 
you  have  known  from  the  first  glance  that  I  was 
"  a  creature  of  the  imagination,  that  there  was 
but  little  that  was  real  and  substantial  about 
me?"  "  She's  all  my  fancy  painted  her " — how 
sweetly  you  quoted  that,  Mr.  Wiggleby  !  Now, 
Pm  sure  you  must  be  a  poet.  If  you're  fond  of 
verses,  I  can  read  you  some  composed  by  a  very 
dear  friend  of  mine,  no  longer  ago  than  last 
night,  upon  a  certain  subject  interesting  to  both 
of  us.  I  have  them  here ;  I  just  slipped  them  in 
my  bosom  to  have  them  handy  to  look  at,  to 
remind  me  of  the  most  thrilling  incidents  of  my 
life.  The  authoress  hasn't  quite  fixed  upon  a 
title-page  yet,  but  thinks  of  calling  it  by  some 
name  that  will  be  suggestive  of  the  catastrophe. 


After  you've  heard  them,  you'll  be  good  enough, 
maybe,  to  give  her  the  benefit  of  your  taste. 
Hem !  I  hope  you'll  like  'em ;  hem-m  ! 

The  shades  of  night  was  falling  fast, 

As  through  the  road  to  Pennyville  passed — 

(that's  a  poetical  license  about  the  shades,  as  it 
was  quite  early  in  the  forenoon;  but  nobody 
expects  poetry  to  be  factitious) 

A  youth  none  ever  saw  before, 
Whose  furious  steed  pitched,  plunged,  and  tore. 
Whoa— oh!  oh!  oh! 

His  brow  was  sad ;  his  eyes  beneath 
Flashed  like  a  dagger  in  its  sheath ; 
'      While  like  a  clarionet  loud  rung 

The  accense  of  that  unknown  tongue — 
Whoa— oh!  oh!  oh! 

His  hands  were  clinched  about  the  rains, 
The  blood  was  freezing  in  his  vains, 
As,  rattling  over  stump  and  stone, 
Still  from  his  lips  escaped  this  groan : 
Whoa — oh!  oh!  oh! 

Attracted  by  the  clattering  noise, 
The  road  swarmed  full  of  men  and  boys. 
Oh,  "  Stop  him  !  stop  him  1"  loud  they  call ; 
But  he  whirls  out  of  sight  of  all. 
Whoa — oh!  oh!  oh  I 


48 

(Getting  out  of  the  sight  of  all  is  illustrious  of 
the  intense  speed  of  his  progress). 

Alvira,  by  the  sound  amazed, 
From  out  her  window  swiftly  gazed ; 
She  saw  his  danger  ;  and  her  shriek 
Told  what  she  felt,  but  couldn't  speak — 
Whoa— oh!  oh!  oh  1 

Some  twenty  feet  away,  or  more, 
Almost  before  her  very  door, 
Loomed  up  a  mountain -pile  of  bricks, 
Toward  which,  the  wild  steed  runs  and  kicks. 

Whoa— oh!  oh!  oh  I 
t 

"  Oh,  stay  I"  Alvira  cried,  "  and  rest 
Thy  weary  head  upon  this  breast!" 
She  knew  not  what  she  did  or  said, 
For  love  and  pity  turned  her  head. 
Whoa — oh!  oh!  OH! 

Wildly  she  rushed  across  the  street, 
That  raging  animal  to  meet, 
"  My  life,"  she  cried,  "  I'll  give  for  hig  /" 
And  waved  her  arms,  and  shouted  this : 
Whoa— oh!  oh!  OH! 

But  madly  on  the  pile  he  rushed ; 
The  horse  was  hurt,  the  buggy  crushed. 
Half  buried  in  the  bricks  she  found 
The  youth,  who  bled  from  many  a  wound. 
Whoa— oh!. oh!  oh! 


There  in  the  twilight,  cold  and  grey, 
Lifeless,  but  beautiful,  he  lay, 
His  hands  in  hers  she  wildly  pressed, 
And  clasped  him  to  her  heaving  breast. 
Whoa— oh!  oh!  oh! 

Her  touch  restored  his  sinking  frame  ; 

He  gasped  !  he  breathed  !  he  sighed  her  name! 

(Another  license,  as,  of  course,  at  that  time,  he 
didn't  know  it). 

She  bore  him,  living,  to  her  shop, 
"While  distant  voices  still  cried :  "  Stop  ! 
Whoa— oh!  oh!  oh!" 

Do  you  really  think  it  as  pathetic  as  it  is  de 
scriptive?  My  voice  trembled  so  on  the  last 
verse  I  was  afraid  you  couldn't  understand  it. 
Some  envious  people,  who  know  nothing  about 
authority,  will  be  saying  that  it  is  not  original, 
that  I  borrowed  the  idea  from  one  of  Long 
fellow's  pieces ;  but  I'll  defy  them  to  prove  it. 
He  did  write  something  like  it  once ;  but  who 
can  prove  which  was  written  first,  unless  they 
know  all  the  circumstances?  And  Longfellow  is 
pretty  well  known  to  be  a  plagealizer.  "What ! 
supper  on  the  table  a'ready  ?  "Well,  girls,  you've 
been  uncommon  quick  this  time.  "Walk  out  in 
t'other  room,  Mr.  "Wiggleby,  and  make  yourself 
3 


50  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

to  home — to  home,  I  say,  because  a  young  man 
stopping  at  a  tavern  must  have  a  longing  to  hear 
the  word  once  more. 

JSTow  he's  gone,  girls,  I  can  tell  you  you  had 
altogether  too  much  to  say  to  Mr.  "Wiggleby, 
considering  that  he  was  an  entire  stranger  to 
you.  "  Children  should  be  seen,  and  not  heard," 
particularly  at  the  table.  I  was  mortified  to 
death  at  you,  Clara,  when  you  came  so  near  to 
spilling  your  tea  right  on  the  table-cloth  with 
that  everlasting  giggling  of  yours.  And — one 
thing  more !  let  me  tell  you  that  I  heard  both  of 
you  laughing  and  stuffing  your  apurns  in  your 
mouth,  with  the  door  about  an  inch  open,  when 
I  was  reading  them  verses  to  Mr.  Wiggleby.  I 
didn't  take  notice  of  it  at  the  time,  as  I  hoped  he 
didn't  hear  it;  but  you'll  laugh  behind  some 
body  else's  door,  if  you  ever  dare  to  play  eaves 
dropper  again.  Go  to  bed,  both  of  you  !  Do  I 
want  any  help  about  dyeing  my  hair  ?  When  I 
do,  I'll  ask  it.  You'd  better  color  your  own, 
Miss  Saucebox ;  it's  getting  redder  than  ever. 

Hush !  hark !  that  music  is  right  under  my 
window!  Yes,  Alvira  Slimmens,  as  sure  as 
you're  a  born  woman,  you're  getting  a  serenade. 
I  wonder  what  the  neighbors  '11  say  now,  witb 


51 

all  their  curling  up  their  noses  at  you're  being 
an  old  maid.  How  I  wish  I  dared  to  raise  the 
window  !  I  would ;  but  my  hair  is  in  papers, 
and  my  teeth  are  in  the  tumbler,  and  I've  wash 
ed  the  paint  all  off  my  face,  and  my  night-cap 
hasn't  any  ruffle  to  it,  and  my  flannin  bed-gown 
is  anything  but  pretty  ;  and  it's  so  moonlight  he 
could  see  the  difference  without  a  bit  of  diffi 
culty.  O  my  !  ain't  that  heavenly  ?  I  must 
peep  througlrthe  curtain  a  little.  Yes,  it's  him  ! 
1  knew  it  was  !  He's  singing,  now,  and  drum 
ming  on  his  catarrh.  It's  that  sweet  thing, 
"  Will  you  meet  me  by  moonlight  alone  ?"  Oh, 
I  would  gladly  meet  him,  anywhere  he  said,  that 
wras  proper,  and  folks  wouldn't  talk  about !  I'd 
meet  him  anyhow  !  I'd  run  away  with  him,  if 
he'd  only  ask  me.  I'm  going  to  tell  him,  next 
time  he  comes,  that  I  own  this  house  and  shop, 
and  have  six  hundred  dollars  in  the  Bank  of 
Lowell,  and  perhaps  he'll  ask  me  to  elope  with 
him.  Won't  the  people  of  Pennyville  be  aston 
ished  when  they  wake  up  some  morning  and  find 
Alvira  Slimmens  has  had  a  real,  genuine  run 
away  wredding?  Dear!  dear!  how  I  wrish  I 
durst  to  raise  the  window,  and  throw  him  a 
bunch  of  artificials,  seeing  I've  no  other  bou- 


52  MISS    SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW. 

quet.  1  wouldn't  mind  the  expense.  I'm  so 
afraid  he'll  think  I  don't  hear.  Hark !  them  for 
ward  chits  are  up,  and  are  histing  theirs — there ! 
they've  thrown  down  something,  and  he  kisses  it 
and  puts  it  in  his  bosom.  Of  course,  he  thinks 
1  threw  it  to  him,  and  I'm  glad  they've  done  it ; 
but  they  deserve  to  be  shet  up  in  a  closet  for 
their  immodesty.  How  gracefully  he  leans 
against  that  post !  He's  the  very  picture  of  the 
Apollo  Bellevue.  If  he'd  only  stay  long  enough 
for  me  to  take  down  my  hair  and  put  in  my 
teeth,  I'd  answer  him  personally.  Bat  he's 
going;  he  pauses  and  looks  back.  Does  he 
really  want  me  to  meet  him  in  the  grove  at  the 
end  of  the  vale  ?  To-morrow  night,  I'll  sleep  in 
my  toilet,  and  then  I'll  be  ready  for  anything 
that  may  happen.  Dear !  dear !  nobody  can  tell 
what's  going  to  happen,  if  they  wait  long 
enough. 


CHAPTEK  IV. 

MISS     SLIMMEN3    MEETS   WITH   A   VEKY   GREAT     LOSS. 

CLARA!  Dora!  come  here  both  of  you, 
this  very  minute!  "Where's  my  teeth? 
where's  my  teeth,  I  say?  You  don't  know? 
Yes,  you  do  know,  too — you  must!  They're 
gone,  and  I  can't  find  them  anywhere  in  this 
room.  I  jest  took  them  out,  a  few  minutes  ago, 
to  brush  'em,  and  stepped  out  in  the  back  yard 
for  some  water,  and  come  in,  and  now  they're 
nowhere  to  be  seen.  You  needn't  tell  me  they 
walk  out  of  that  tumbler  without  help.  There's 
been  nobody  within  gunshot  but  you  two,  and 
you're  playing  a  trick  on  me.  I'll  have  you 
both  arrested — I  will — marched  off  to  jail,  and 
kept  on  bread  and  water  for  a  year.  I'll  swear 
you  took  'em  ;  for  who  else  could  ?  I'll  go  for 
the  sheriff,  now,  this  minute.  Why  don't  I  go  ? 
Yes,  and  meet  Mr.  Wiggleby  at  the.  very  door, 

00 


54: 

perhaps.  He  was  to  be  here  at  two  o'clock,  to 
take  me  out  a-riding,  and  it  lacks  but  ten  min 
utes  of  the  hour,  and  here  I  am  with  my  teeth 
gone.  A  pretty  figure  I  shall  cut,  in  this  plight. 
Oh,  girls,  do  help  me  hunt!  Perhaps  they've 
dropped  somewhere,  and  I'm  so  distracted  I 
can't  see  'em.  Do  your  best,  and  the  one  that 
finds  'em  shall  have  a  new  silk  dress,  if  she  finds 
'em  before  Mr.  Wiggleby  arrives.  What's  that  ? 
The  tumbler  was  standing  close  to  the  window, 
and  perhaps  the  cats  got  them,  or  some  little  boy 
has  come  into  the  yard  and  took  'em  for  fun  ? 
Oh-h-h !  perhaps !  I  never  was  in  such  misery 
in  my  life.  Them  teeth  cost  me  sixty  dollars, 
hard  cash  !  and  to  lose  them — lose  them  now,  of 
all  times !  I'd  rather  have  lost  my  head.  Hark ! 
wasn't  that  the  sound  of  buggy-wheels  ?  Oh, 
I'm  so  glad  it  wasn't !  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  that 
plaguy  Peter's  boy,  Jim,  had  been  hangin' 
around  and  seen  'em ;  he's  up  to  all  sorts  of 
deviltry.  Run  over  there,  Dora,  and  inquire. 
Clara,  have  you  searched  under  the  bed  ?  Dear ! 
dear !  dear  !  the  clock  has  struck  two.  Oh,  my 
teeth  !  my  poor  lost  teeth  ! 

What's  that?  my  tears   are   washing  all  my 
paint  off?     Oh,  you  hedious  girls  !  you'll  be  the 


MISS    8LIMMENS  8    WINDOW. 


55 


death  of  me  yet !  How  can  you  liave  the  heart 
to  make  fun  of  me  when  I'm  in  such  trouble? 
One  thing  is  certain !  if  I  ever  do  find  out  you've 


had   a    hand   in    this,    I'll    be    revenged — yes, 
revenged. 

There  !  there's  the  sound  of  a  carriage  stop 
ping  !  He's  knocking  at  the  door  !  Oh,  dear ! 
what  shall  I  do  ?  I'll  throw  myself  on  tlie  bed, 


56  MISS    SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW. 

and  pretend  to  be  sick.  I  cannot  see  him,  much 
as  I  want  to  ;  I  look  too  frightful.  Bun,  Clara, 
tell  him  I've  been  taken  suddenly  very  ill,  but  I 
hope  to  be  better  by  to-morrow,  and  will  ride  out 
with  him  then. 

Has  she  gone,  Dora  ?  Oh,  I  dare  not  steal  a 
look  !  I  must  hide  my  face  in  the  pillow  to  stifle 
my  groans.  What's  that,  Clara  Brown  ?  Mr. 
Wiggle  by  regrets  exceedingly  his  disappoint 
ment,  but,  since  he  has  the  carriage  at  the  door, 
would  ask  permission  to  take  you  out  a  little 
while.  You  can't  go,  Clara  ;  do  you  hear  ?  If 
the  jade  isn't  actually  tying  on  her  bonnet,  and 
pretending  not  to  hear !  If  I  dared  to  step  out 
and  tell  her,  but  he's  standing  right  there ;  and 
I  can't  even  forbid  her.  I'll  bet  a  hundred  dol 
lars  she  heard  me ;  and  she'll  have  the  impu 
dence  to  say  she  didn't. 

They've  gone,  and  I've  nothing  to  do  but  be 
wretched.  Who  knows  what  impression  that 
saucy  girl  may  have  a  chance  to  make  ?  And  I 
can't  even  go  out  to  make  good  my  loss.  Oh, 
my  unhappy  teeth !  Bless  me,  if  they  ain't 
lying  right  here  on  the  bed !  I  believe  I  put 
'em  there  myself ;  or  else  them  girls  have  been 
playing  me  a  trick.  How  I  wish  I  could  find 


MISS   SLIMMENS's   WINDOW.  57 

out !     I'd  never  forgive  them  to  the  lastest  hour 
of  my  existence. 

They're  a  mile  way  by  this  time,  and  I  can 
set  down  to  making  bunnits  again,  I  suppose. 
And  this  was  to  have  been  the  happiest  day  of  my 
life !  for  I'm  sure  that  I  could  have  brought  him  to 
a  positive  declaration.  I  could  kill  that  Clara 
Brown.  The  happiest  day  of  my  life,  indeed  I 
I  could  tear  things,  I'm  so  mad ! 


CHAPTER  Y. 

SHE  AGITATES   THE   QUESTION   OF   THE   WEDDING 
TKOUSSEAU. 

RAIN  I  rain !  rain  !  Do  see  how  it  drips 
down  before  the  window,  so  a  person  can 
hardly  tell  who  is  whos,  that  goes  by !  though 
there's  not  many  people  out  this  morning.  I 
don't  believe  I  shall  have  a  customer  to-day.  If 
Mr.  "Wiggleby  gets  along,  it'll  be  more  than  I 
expect ;  though  I  do  think  he  is  the  devotedest 
of  all  the  suitors  I  ever  had.  He's  been  per 
fectly  intermittent  in  his  attentions  ever  since  I 
was  the  means,  under  Providence,  of  saving  his 
life,  and  that's  two  weeks  yesterday.  I  don't 
think  the  most  envious  creature  in  Pennyville, 
even  Sally  Meyers  herself,  can  say  now  that  I'm 
counting  my  chickens  before  they're  hatched. 
If  such  civilities  as  Mr.  Wiggleby  has  extended 
to  me  ain't  paramount  to  a  declaration,  then  I 
never  received  one.  Six  serenades,  two  buggy 

68 


59 


rides — besides  the  one  I  lost  on  account  of  mis- 
la  jing  my  teeth — eight  calls  in  the  daytime  and 
twelve  in  the  evening,  walking  home  by  my 
side  from  church,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
congregation — why,  any  jury  in  the  land,  that 
had  a  spark  of  sentiment  in  its  breast  for  the 
feminine  sex,  who  had  a  wife,  or  a  mother,  or  a 
daughter,  or  a  sister  whose  heart  it  did  not  wish 
wantonly  trifled  with,  wrould  give  me  damages, 
in  case  Mr.  Wiggleby  should  back  out  at  this 
hour.  But  I'd  rather  have  him  than  five  thou 
sand  dollars  without  him ;  and  I  don't  think  he 
has  the  least  idea  of  retreating.  I  think  he 
grows  more  arduous  at  every  interview.  He 
squeezed  my  hand  so  respectfully,  when  he 
lifted  me  out  of  the  buggy  yesterday.  I  looked 
into  his  eyes  to  see  if  he  meant  anything,  and  he 
gave  me  such  a  glance !  I  declare  I  could  hardly 
walk  to  the  door  without  his  assistance.  What 
expressive  eyes  he's  got,  as  black  as  this  piece  of 
crape  and  as  bright  as  spangles,  and  such  a  pellu 
cid  smile  in  them.  What  convinces  me  more  than 
anything  else  of  the  sincerity  of  his  attentions  is 
the  frankness  with  which  he  has  told  me  all 
about  himself.  It  seems  he  came  to  Penny ville 
to  do  some  law  business  for  his  father,  who  owns 


60 

property  out  here  about  six  miles — lie  showed  it 
to  me  the  last  time  we  druv  out  together,  and 
'twas  there  he  was  going  that  time  when  Smith's 
baulky  horse  throwed  him  out,  and  he  was  borne 
into  my  shop,  and  recovered  through  my  exer 
tions — and  he  didn't  expect  to  be  retained  more'n 
three  or  four  days  when  he  came  here,  but  "busi 
ness,  you  know,  is  so  prognosticating.  He's 
been  unavoidably  delayed,  he  assures  me,  by 
occurrences  which  he  didn't  foresee.  In  short, 
he's  found  attractions  in  Pennyville  that  he  had 
no  idea  existed  here,  and  he  don't  know  when  he 
shall  be  able  to  tear  himself  away ;  he  told  me 
so  himself.  "  Tear  himself  away,"  was  the  very 
words  he  used,  and  his  manner  spoke  columns. 
Now,  Clara  Brown,  wrhat's  your  face  so  red  for  ? 
and  you're  crumpling  that  lace  all  up,  with  your 
carelessness.  I  never  see  a  girl  change  as  you 
have  the  last  two  weeks  ;  you  seem  not  to  know 
whether  you're  standing  on  your  head  or  your 
feet,  more'n  half  the  time,  and  I've  had  to  rip 
out  and  do  over  full  three-quarters  of  your 
work.  I'm  thankful  my  trials  in  the  apprentice 
line  are  pretty  much  over;  for  you'd  better 
believe  I'll  shet  up  shop  the  day  that  I  give  up 
the  name  of  Slimmens.  I  expect  he'll  build, 


61 

maybe,  on  his  father's  property,  and  I've  imi 
tated  pretty  plain  to  him  that  I  should  have  nigh 
on  to  a  thousand  dollars  to  help  build  and  fur 
nish  the  house  with. 

I  want  you  girls  to  take  hold  and  manage 
things  a  little  more — take  some  of  the  responsi 
bility  on  your  own  shoulders.  If  you  do  well 
and  behave  yourselves,  there's  no  knowing  but  I 
may  be  induced  to  rent  you  the  shop,  and  let 
you  go  along  for  yourselves.  'Tennyrate,  I 
want  you  to  take  hold  now,  for  I've  got  sewing 
of  my  own  to  do;  I've  sewed  for  other  folks 
about  long  enough.  I'm  going  to  scallop  the 
collar  and  cuffs  of  that  night-gown  I'm  making, 
and  put  tape-trimming  all  around  the  edge  ;  then 
I've  ruffles  to  hem  for  three  new  night-caps,  and 
some  bands  to  stitch,  and  sew  that  knit  lace  on, 
that  I  did  last  winter  in  the  evenings ;  I've  my 
green  silk  to  turn  the  skirt  of,  and,  as  soon  as  I 
can  make  up  my  mind  what  it  shall  be,  I've 
another  dress  to  make — a  party  dress,  you  know 
— he !  he !  I  can't  decide  which  to  choose ; 
whether  to  have  a  sweet  white  muslin,  low  in 
the  neck  and  tucked  to  the  waste,  with  white 
satin  ribbin  run  in  the  tucks,  and  a  sash  of  the 
same,  or  to  have  a  pearl-colored  silk  and  wear 


62 

my  bunnit.  It's  such  an  important  moment  of 
one's  destination,  it  requires  some  reflection  to 
decide  upon  so  momentary  a  question.  The 
bridal  toilet  is  always  the  object  of  so  much 
excruciating  remark. 

There  goes  Josh  Stebbins  out  in  the  rain,  with 
his  umbrella  over  his  head,  and  his  wife  follow 
ing  him  to  the  door,  to  scold  him  for  something 
he's  forgotten,  I  make  no  doubt,  or  to  ask  him 
for  something  new,  to  make  him  draw  down  his 
stingy  old  face.  I  can  see  "already  that  she's 
going  to  be  very  extravagant.  There's  groceries 
went  into  that  house  three  times  within  a  week, 
and  a  paper  that  I  know  was  sugar  every  time  ; 
and  they  use  three-quarters  of  a  pound  of  butter 
every  day  of  their  lives,  for  I  asked  old  Mrs. 
Grimes,  that  brings  it  to  them,  that  day  she  was 
in  here  to  see  about  having  new  strings  to  her 
black  satin  bunnit.  I  hope  the  children  are  well 
fed,  since  things  must  be  wasted  in  such  profu 
sion.  I  don't  believe  the  poor  things  are  happy, 
and  I've  my  reasons  for  it.  The  other  day,  I  see 
little  Jimmy  standing  out  by  the  gate,  looking 
so  forlorn,  and  crying  as  if  his  heart  was  break 
ing  ;  and  I  called  him  over,  and  gave  him  a  cake 
with  carraway-seeds  and  a  lump  of  sugar,  and 


63 

asked  him  what  was  tlie  matter  with  him — if  he 
didn't  like  his  new  mother.  You  ought  to  have 
seen  that  child  eat  that  cake !  he  never  answered 
me  till  he'd  swallowed  it  all  down ;  and  then  he 
said  he  was  crying  because  he  lost  the  pretty 
new  ball  his  mother  made  for  him ;  but  it's  my 
opinion  he  was  crying  from  hunger,  and  nothing 
else,  though  the  poor  little  fellow  didn't  realize 
what  wTas  the  matter  with  him.  I  asked  him  how 
he  liked  his  new  ma,  and  he  said  he  likgd  her 
twenty  bushels ;  and  I  asked  him  if  she  told  him 
to  say  that,  and  that  she'd  shet  him  up  in  the 
closet  if  he  didn't,  when  people  asked  him,  and 
he  acted  as  if  he  was  afraid  to  tell  me,  but 
stammered,  "  He  guessed  so — he  didn't  know ; 
his  new  ma  had  shet  him  up  in  the  closet  once 
when  he  was  very  naughty."  My  'heart  bled 
for  him.  I  spread  him  a  thick  slice  of  bread, 
but  he  run  oif  and  wouldn't  eat  it.  I've  no 
doubt  his  step-mother  has  forbid  him  to  stay 
anywhere  long  enough  for  the  neighbors  to  find 
out  how  things  is  going.  If  she  keeps  anything 
that  Alvira  Slimmens  doesn't  worm  out,  either 
one  way  or  another,  she'll  be  the  first  inhabitant 
of  Pennyville  that's  been  deep  enough  to  do  it. 
Oh  my  !  wouldn't  I  like  to  catch  the  first  glance 


64  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

of  Josli  Stebbins'  face,  when  he  hears  the 
news  ! 

Ham !  rain !  rain !  rain !  just  a  purpose  to 
keep  Mr.  "Wiggleby  away,  and  per  vent  Miss 
Grant  from  comin'  to  settle  for  that  hat.  It'll 
give  my  window  a  good  washing,  anyhow ;  and 
it  needed  it  bad  enough.  Run,  Dora,  and  get  a 
towel,  and  tuck  around  the  sash  there  where  it's 
beatiii'  in. 

"Well,  for  the  land  sake,  if  there  isn't  Jonathan 
Grimes  driving  his  ox-team  in  such  a  day  as  this ! 
He's  worn  that  old  straw  hat  now  going  on  five 
year.  See  how  the  water  drips  off,  and  runs 
down  his  back,  and  his  long  legs  hanging  down 
into  the  mad,  and  that  red  flannin  shirt  on!  It's 
a  mercy  I  didn't  have  him,  if  he  is  worth  three 
thousand  dollars,  besides  a  part  of  the  farm 
when  his  father  dies.  Did  you  ever  hear  how 
near  we  came  to  making  a  match,  I  and  Jona 
than?  Oh,  dear,  I  shall  expire  with  laughing 
to  think  of  it !  It  all  came  of  that  very  old  straw 
hat.  You  see,  about  those  days,  he  used  to 
look  pretty  spruce ;  though  his  legs  always  was 
rather  long,  and  seemed  to  be  in  the  way  when 
he  was  setting  down,  or  dancing,  or  standing 
still ;  though  they  was  well  enough  in  climbing 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  65 

fences  and  planting  pnnkin-seeds ;  but  lie  kept 
fixed  up  right  smart,  for  lie  was  paying  attention 
to  Joe  Waters ;  and  there  was  talk  of  their  mak 
ing  a  match.  Most  people  called  Joe  very  hand 
some  ;  though  /  never  could  see  much  beauty 
about  her,  except  her  bright  eyes,  and  her  cheeks 
as  red  as  pinys.  In  my  opinion,  she  was  right- 
down  bold-looking  with  that  dimple  in  her  chin, 
and  laughing  whenever  she  got  a  chance.  One 
day,  he  come  in  my  shop,  and  he  had  that  hat 
in  his  hand,  which  he  had  jest  give  two  bushels 
of  wheat  for ;  and  he  wanted  me  to  put  a  green 
silk  lining  in,  and  a  good  broad  green  ribbon 
around  it.  So  I  asked  him  to  take  a  seat  while 
I  was  doing  the  job;  and  he  made  himself  very 
agreeable ;  and  finally  I  laughed  and  said,  said  I, 
"  I  suppose  you'll  have  another  person  besides 
Miss  Slimmens  to  put  the  next  lining  in  this  hat 
for  ye,  if  report  says  true,  Mr.  Grimes."  And 
he  blushed  like  a  beet,  and  hemmed,  and  said, 
"  he  didn't  know ;  he  guessed  not."  And  just 
that  minute,  as  luck  would  have  it,  Josephine 
Waters  appeared  at  the  open  door  with  a  bunnit 
in  her  hand,  which  she  had  brought  for  me  to 
trim  with  white.  She  looked  kind  of  curious  at 
us  to  see  Jonathan  blushing  and  me  laughing ; 


66 

and  says  I :  "  Oh,  it's  notjiing,  Joe  !  only  I  was 
accusing  Mr.  Grimes  of  being  engaged  to  a  cer 
tain  somebody,  and  lie  was  denying  of  it,  as  if 
everybody  didn't  know  without  being  told.  But 
la !  lie  needn't  have  got  so  mad  about  it,  seeing 
he's  going  to  have  the  best-looking  girl  about 
Pennyville.  It's  no  insult  to  couple  that  name 
with  his'n,  I  reckon." 

"  I  didn't  know  I  got  mad,"  said  he ;  for  he 
was  a  kind  of  bashful  chap,  and  hadn't  spunk 
enough  to  carry  anything  out. 

"  "Well,  maybe  you  didn't,"  said  I;  and  then, 
to  turn  the  subject,  I  asked  him  if  he  had  heard 
of  the  rise  of  property  in  Pennyville  since  the 
railroad  was  talked  of.  ""Why,"  said  I,  "four 
year  ago  I  paid  fifty  dollars  for  this  lot,  and  a 
hundred  and  fifty  for  the  shop ;  and  now  I 
wouldn't  take  six  hundred  for  'em.  I've  a 
notion  to  draw  my  money  from  the  bank,  and 
spec'late  in  real  estate." 

"If  you  do,  you'll  make  a  pretty  fortinate 
match  for  some  man,"  said  he,  as  he  took  his 
hat,  and  waited  for  Joe  to  do  her  errand.  I  see 
she  begun  to  look  grave,  and  her  eyes  flashed  a 
little,  for  Joe  was  as  poor  as  Job's  turkey ;  *and 
his  folks  had  twitted  her  of  it  once  or  twice :  but 


67 

she  told  me  what  she  wanted  done  to  the  bunnit, 
and  then  told  me,  very  polite,  that  her  mother 
was  to  have  a  quilting-bee  to-morrow,  and  had 
told  her  to  be  sure-  and  ask  me.  Then  I  laughed 
again,  and  said,  "  I'd  be  happy  to  attend,  if  I'd 
any  way  of  getting  there ;  bnt,  as  it  was,  I  didn't 
see  how  I  could,  unless  Mr.  Grimes  would  volun 
teer  to  bring  me  in  his  father's  new  buggy ;"  and 
of  course  he  couldn't  get  out  of  it,  and  said : 
"  With  the  greatest  willingness."  And  the  two 
went  away,  looking  daggers  toward  one  another, 
with  me  laughing  in  my  sleeve.  1  wanted  to 
plague  'em,  because  I  knew  I  was  asked  to  the 
bee  because  I  was  the  fastest  quilter  in  Penny- 
ville ;  and  I'd  heard  of  Joe  saying  that  I  painted ; 
and  I  knew  she  stuck  herself  up  on  the  strength 
of  her  good  looks. 

The  next  day,  I  was  rigged  out  in  my  best, 
and  the  new  buggy  come  to  the  door  in  grand 
style ;  and  I  was  in  such  a  good  humor,  that  I 
got  Jonathan  to  speaking  out  quite  free,  a  thing 
even  Joe  couldn't  do ;  and  we  was  chatting 
away  as  merry  as  blackbirds  when  we  drove  up 
to  Widow  Waters'.  Joe  came  out  to  the  gate  to 
show  me  in ;  and  I  spoke  out  just  as  she  got 
within  hearing,  and  says  I,  "  No,  indeed,  it's  too 


68  MISS   SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

late  now  to  break  with  her"  just  as  if  I  didn't 
intend  she  should  hear.  Jonathan  kind  of 
looked  confused,  but  wasn't  quick  enough  to 
take,  and  let  the  matter  slip.  Joe  got  as  wrhite 
as  a  sheet,  but  smiled,  and  made  herself  agree 
able  to  me ;  wThile  Mr.  Grimes  drove  oif  to  stay 
away  till  te'a-time.  We  quilted  all  the  after 
noon;  and  I  saw  she  felt  bad,  and  couldn't 
hardly  make  herself  sociable  with  the  visitors ; 
while  1  was  talking  and  joking  all  the  time. 
During  the  evening,  1  stuck  to  her  beau  like  a 
bur  to  a  woollen  stocking,  and  flattered  him  up 
so  that  his  face  shone  like  a  punkin  ;  and,  when 
we  went  off  together  after  that  dashing  horse  in 
that  new  rockaway  by  moonlight,  I  knew  that 
Joe  was  just  ready  to  burst  out  a-crying ;  but  he 
didn't,  for  she  bid  him  good-night  so  gay,  and 
laughed  so  loud,  that  the  fool  thought  slip  was 
all  right.  It  takes  men  a  great  while  to  learn 
how  a  woman  will 

"  Let  congealment,  like  a  worm  in  the  mud, 
Prey  on  her  damaged  cheek." 

What  happened  after  that,  I  don't  know, 
except  that  they  kept  up  a  coolness ;  and  folks 
said  the  match  was  broken  off.  Jonathan  began 


69 

to  call  in  at  the  shop  occasionally ;  and  I  expect; 
if  I'd  a  had  him,  he'd  have  married  me.  But 
his  legs  were  too  long ;  and  he  hadn't  none  of 
that  romantic  air  which  Mr.  "Wiggleby  possesses 
in  such  an  imminent  degree.  So  one  day,  about 
six  months  after,  when  he  came  in  to  get  a  new 
ribbon,  and  said  that  he  and  Joe  had  made  up, 
and  was  going  to  be  married  in  two  weeks,  I  told 
him  "I  thought  they  wras  a  very  good  match, 
though  the  girl  was  poor,  and  her  mother  would 
likely  be  a  dependence  on  him  ;  and,  seeing  her 
heart  was  so  set  on  him,  I  was  glad  Zhadn't  give 
him  any  more  encouragement."  I  sent  my  most 
formidable  compliments  to  the  bride  that  was  to 
be;  and  we've  been  on  speaking  terms  ever 
since  ;  though  I  don't  think  Mrs.  Grimes  has  any 
love  to  spare. 

They've  got  two  young  ones  now ;  and  I  dare 
say  she  finds  a  farmer's  wife  has  more  work  'an 
play ;  while  I,  thank  goodness,  am  still  an  inde 
pendent  candidate.  There  ain't  a  rag  of  her 
wedding  finery  left ;  while  Alvira  Slimmens  is 
just  indulging  in  the  contemplation  of  what  will 
become  her  best.  "Which  do  you  think,  girls — 
white  muslin  or  pearl-colored  silk?  Dear  me! 
what  a  delectable  delight  it  is  to  the  feminine 


70 


MISS   SLIMMENS  8   WINDOW. 


sex  to  be  engaged  in  deciding  upon  tlieir  bridal 
tournure!  "White  muslin  and  a  veil,  or  pear- 
colored  silk  and  a  bonnet  ?  What  a  diploma  to 
be  in!  Come,  girls,  say  which  you  think  fill 
become  my  style  best. 


CHAPTEE   VI. 

THE  WINDOW  IS  CURTAINED  (FIGURATIVELY)  WITH 
CRAPE. 

rTXEN  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  those  girls 
J-  not  here  yet !  This  is  the  last  time  I  let 
that  Clara  go  home  with  Dora  to  sleep.  I 
wouldn't  have  let  'em  gone  last  night,  but  I 
expected  Mr.  "Wiggleby  was  waiting  for  a  chance 
to  ask  me  to  name  the  day ;  and  if  he'd  wanted 
to  stay  and  set  up  late,  I  didn't  want  them  a- 
peeking  through  the  keyhole.  My  plan  was  a 
complete  failure,  for  he  never  come  near  me. 
Here  I  sot,  fixed  up  to  kill,  till  after  ten  o'clock, 
my  heart  vacillating  wildly  at  every  sound,  and 
never  a  knock  from  nobody  but  them  pestering 
Peterses,  wanting  to  know  if  I  had  any  pepper 
mint,  for  the  baby  had  the  colic,  as  if  I  might 
be  expected  to  keep  baby-fixin's  on  hand ! 
They'll  be  coming  over  to  borrow  "  Mother's 
Relief,"  next ;  and  now  I  feel  as  cross  as  a  bear. 


Tl 


72  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 


I'm  tormented  to  know  what  kept  him  away  ;  I 
never  did  feel  so  uneasy  before,  in  all  my  expe 
rience.  I  shouldn't  like  to  let  anybody  but  him 
know  how  I  have  set  my  affections  on  that  man. 
I've  wanted  to  marry  bad  enough,  though  I've 
made  a  pint  of  pretending  not  to ;  but  I  haven't 
been  really  in  love  before,  for  years  and  years. 
The  very  squeak  of  his  patent-leather  boots,  as 
he  comes  along  the  sidewalk,,  sets  the  blood  a-fly- 
ing  into  my  face,  and  when  he  gets  to  the  door, 
and  smiles,  and  bows,  and  says,  "  Good  morning, 
Miss  Slimmens !"  in  that  irreparable  way  of  his, 
my  sensations  are  inexpressible ;  actually,  I 
haven't  the  strength,  sometimes,  to  offer  him  a 
chair.  He's  my  beau-ideal  of  a  beautiful  man. 
If  he  wasn't  worth  a  cent,  but  was  some  name 
less  adventurer,  or  belonged  to  a  band  of  fierce 
bandanas,  or  was  a  political  exile  with  a  price 
set  on  his  head,  or  an  unfortunate  patriarch 
obliged  to  flee  from  his  ancestral  halls,  it  wouldn't 
make  a  bit  of  difference ;  there's  something  in 
the  quirl  of  his  moustache  and  the  bituminous 
depths  of  his  dark  eyes  that  the  soul  of  a  roman 
tic  being  of  the  softer  sex  cannot  resist.  I'd 
rather  be  his  wife,  and  carry  on  the  millinary 
business  forever,  than  any  of  these  Pennyville 


73 

t  daps,  and  roll  in  luxury,  and  never  be  obliged 
to  set  a  stich  nor  look  at  .a  fashionable  plate. 

Oh-li  my !  what  a  sigh  that  was !  it  come  right 
up  out  of  the  pit  of  my  stomach.      I  should  so 
like  to  know  what  kept  him  away  last  night.     I 
laid  awake  two  hours,  by  the  clock,  thinking 
how  I  wished  I  wasn't  more'n  twenty  or  twenty- 
two,  and  had  my  own  teeth  and  hair  back  again, 
and  was  a  Mexican  heiress,  riding  on  a  steed 
through  a  mountain  pass,  with  only  one  servant 
for  a  protector,  and  a  band  of  bandanas  should 
rush  out  of  a  cave  and  seize  me,  and  I'd  strug 
gle  and  pretend  to  want  to  get  away,  but  should 
be  overpowered,  and  my  servant  tied  to  a  tree, 
and  I   shouldn't  be   able   to  help  myself,    but 
should  be  carried  off  in  their  arms  into  the  inte 
rior  of  the  cave,  and  should  open  my  eyes,  after 
fainting   away    in   a   graceful  position,  to   find 
myself  in  a  splendid  chamber  full  of  silver,  and 
gold,  and  jewels,  robbed  from  travellers,  and  find 
the  chief  of  the  bandanas  kneeling  before  me, 
insuring  me  that  if  I  would  accept  his  heart  and 
hand  and  marry  him,  I  should  come  to  no  harm, 
and  when  I  lifted  my  eyes  to  his  face,  behold  it 
was  Mr.  Wiggle  by,  and  I  was  impelled  to  wed 
him,  whether  or  no ! 

4 


74:  MISS   SLIMMENS*S   WINDOW. 

I  declare  it  makes  me  sick,  to  get  up  this 
morning  and  find  this  same  old  shop,  and  these 
same  old  bunnits,  and  my  old  sign  a-swinging 
out  there  in  the  wind,  after  such  a  beautiful 
revelry.  The  millinary  business  was  never 
intended  for  my  destination,  I'm  convinced  of 
that.  If  Mr.  "Wiggleby  should  come  in  here 
this  hour  and  ask  me  to  elope  with  him,  I'd 
pack  up  my  duds,  draw  my  money  from  the 
bank,  and  do  it.  I  do  wish  he'd  come  to  terms, 
if  he's  a-going  to.  I  feel  that  I've  no  time  to 
spare,  and  I'm  mighty  uneasy  about  losing  him ; 
there  isn't  a  girl  in  the  village  but  would  jump 
at  the  chance  of  becoming  Mrs.  "Wiggleby.  I've 
told  him,  point-blank,  that  I  was  worth  three 
times  what  I  am,  for  I  knew  it  would  be  the  only 
way  to  keep  him,  when  there  was  plenty  of 
"sweet  seventeens"  a-sighing  for  him.  But  I 
wish  he'd  come  to  terms  !  If  there's  anybody  in 
the  world  that  has  had  reason  to  realize  that  a 
"  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush," 
it's  me ;  and  I  wish  Mr.  "Wiggleby  was  safe  in 
my  hand.  I  feel  an  unaccountable  sinking  of 
the  spirits  this  morning. 

Them  girls  aren't  in  sight  yet.  They  won't 
find  me  in  the  best  of  humor ;  they'll  have  to 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW.  75 

have  a  better  excuse  than  there's  any  danger  of, 
if  they  escape  my  wrath  this  time.  Half-past 
ten  of  a  Monday,  and  they  not  here  to  begin 
work !  Such  conduct  is  unprecedental !  The 
nearer  they  come  to  being  of  age,  the  more 
liberties  they  take.  If  I  ever  need  their  ser 
vices,  it's  now.  There's  them  eight  Leghorns 
and  three  Dunstables  to  be  hung  in  the  bleach- 
barrel,  and  that  bunnit  I  didn't  get  done  Satur 
day,  on  account  of  going  out  a-riding  with  Mr. 
"Wiggleby,  to  be  sent  home,  and  them  children's 
flats  to  be  lined  and  trimmed  to-day,  and  I 
wanted  to  set  down  peaceably  to  my  own  sewing. 
The  tape  work  isn't  sewed  on  to  that  night-gown 
yet,  and  there's  no  telling  how  soon  it'll  be 
required.  If  he  would  happen  along  to  apolo 
gize  for  not  coming  to  keep  Sunday  night,  I 
shouldn't  mind  their  tardiness  so  much ;  but  he 
isn't  coming.  I've  looked  up  and  down  till  my 
eyes  ache,  and  that's  all  the  good  it's  done. 

I  think  that  girl  Clara  has  got  altogether  more 
vanity  and  pride  than's  good  for  her.  "What 
does  she  do  but  buy  one  of  my  prettiest  white 
bunnits — a  velvet  one,  with  a  plume — Saturday 
night,  and  pay  for  it  out  of  her  own  purse.  I 
didn't  know  she  had  saved  up  so  much.  She's 


76 

set  her  cap  for  somebody,  or  she  wouldn't  have 
been  guilty  of  such  extravagance.  I  told  her 
plainly  I  didn't  think  a  velvit  bunnit  would  be 
very  suitable  to  her  condition,  and  she  said  if 
she  earned  it  and  could  pay  for  it,  she  didn't 
know  who  had  a  right  to  interfere ;  and  then 
she  tried  it  on  and  looked  in  the  glass,  and  asked 
Dora  if  it  wasn't  sweet.  I  knew  she  was  think 
ing  all  the  time  that  a  pretty  bunnit  made  a  cer 
tain  pretty  face  look  handsomer  still ;  and  when 
somebody  -knocked  and  Mr.  "Wiggleby  walked 
in,  I  c'ould  have  scratched  her  eyes  out,  she  turn 
ed  to  him  so  saucy,  with  her  cheeks  all  in  a  glow, 
and  asked  him  how  he  liked  her  selection.  She 
did  look  outrageously  handsome  just  then ;  and 
I  was  on  nettles  till  I'd  thought  of  a  way  of 
taking  her  down  by  asking  her  how  many  weeks' 
wages,  at  seventy-five  cents  a  wreek,  it  would 
take  for  a  vain  girl  to  buy  a  nine-dollar  bunnit, 
and  that  I  thought  it  would  be  very  correspon 
dent  with  a  certain  colored  merino  shawl. 

'Leven  o'clock !  "Well,  this  beats  all !  I'll 
put  on  my  bunnit  and  go  after  them  stay-aways 
in  less  than  five  minutes ;  and  I'll  tell  Dora's 
mother  if  she  doesn't  keep  'em  in  better  order, 
she  needn't  expect  Fll  do  any  more  for  'em. 


77 

That's  Dora  now — no,  it  isn't — yes,  it  is ;  Dora 
Adams  coming  along  alone,  as  slow  as  if  she 
was  marching  to  a  funeral,  and  not  a  sign  to  be 
seen  of  Clara.  J  wonder  what's  that  she's  got  in 
her  hand,  wrapped  up  in  paper ;  and  how  she 
dares  to  take  her  time  in  this  manner. 

So,  miss^  you've  got  along,  have  you?  Of 
course,  you've  an  excellent  excuse,  something 
entirely  satisfactory,  for  staying  away  till  this 
hour,  and  putting  the  work  back  of  a  Monday 
morning.  "Where's  Clara  ?  Sick,  I  suppose, 
with  cutting  up  of  a  Sabbath  evening.  What's 
that  ?  You  needn't  stammer  so,  Dora  Adams ! 
You  ain't  stammering  ?  Well,  speak  out,  then. 
WHAT  ?  "  Clara  was  married  to  Mr.  Wiggleby 
at  nine  o'clock  this*  morning,  and  hopes  you'll 
forgive  her  for  not  finishing  out  her  time,  as  her 
husband  is  willing  to  make  it  all  right  if  there's 
any  damages,  and  she  sends  her  card  and  apiece 
of  the  wedding-cake,  with  their  compliments  /" 
"No,  I  never  will  forgive  her — you  know  I  never 
will,  Dora  Adams  !  Throw  that  wedding-cake 
out  in  the  street — throw  it  out,  I  say  ! — and  that 
card.  I'll  sue  'em  both  for  damages !  I'll  sue 
her  for  her  time,  and  him  for  a  breach  of  pro 
mise.  I'll  break  'em  up  and  ruin  'em,  that  I 


78 

will !  the  deceitful,  ungrateful,  sly,  tricky — hard 
hearted  —  mendacious  —  outrageous — creatures ! 
Hand  me  the  camphire,  quick  !  I'm  swooning- 
oo-oon-ooning  I  The  cam-phire ! 

Yes,  I'm  better  now ! ,  Stand  off !  don't  go  to  fus 
sing  over  me  with  your  pretence  of  being  sorry ! 
You've  aided  and  abetted  in  this  wicked  con 
spiracy  !  I  see  it  all  now !  ~No  wonder  I  was 
overcome  at  the  ingratitude  of  that  serpent  that 
I've  nourished  in  my  bosom,  as  it  were,  for  the 
last  three  years  !  treated  her  as  if  she  was  my 
own  sister,  learnt  her  how  to  trim  and  do  up 
bunnits  in  the  best  style,  fitted  her  out  to  get  her 
own.  living,  and  now  she's  rewarded  my  care  and 
trouble  by  going  off  and  getting  married  with 
out  so  much  as  even  asking  my  advice,  and  she 
with  no  mother  to  advise  her,  the  bold,  indeli 
cate  thing !  to  a  perfect  stranger,  too.  Flown 
from  the  protecting  influences  of  my  shop  into 
the  arms  of  a  man !  gone  off  with  one  of  the 
male  sex  that  she  hasn't  known  over  six  weeks ! 
How  does  she  know  but  what  he's  got  two  or 
three  wives  already — but  that  he's  a  Brighani 
Young  in  disguise  ?  I  hope  he  is.  I  hope  and 
trust  she'll  get  come  up  with  for  her  undecent 
behavior. 


79 

"  You  don't  know  as  it's  anything  so  unpar 
donable  for  a  girl  to  get  married,  especially  a 
poor  girl,  when  she  has  a  good  chance  ?"  ~No 
doubt  you'd  like  to  try  the  experiment  yourself. 
How  do  you,  or  she,  or  anybody  know  that  Mr. 
Wiggleby  is  a  good  chance?  How  do  you 
know  but  what  he's  a  runaway  forger — I  see  one 
advertised  not  a  month  ago — or  a  gambler,  or  a 
contraband  malefactor? 

"  Your  mother  wrote  and  ascertained  all  about 
him — that  he  was  a  most  excellent  young  man  ?" 
Pretty  business  for  a  mother  to  be  in !  get  up 
matches  for  other  people !  If  she's  upheld  Clara 
Brown  in  this  step  to  deceive  and  defraud  me, 
do  you  go  home  to  her,  and  tell  her  I've  seen 
enough  of  you.  !N~ever  do  you  darken  my  doors 
again,  Dora  Adams  !  I've  had  enough  of  pren 
tice-girls  bringing  disgrace  on  my  shop.  There ! 
you  needn't  flash  up  in  that  style !  Isn't  it  a 
disgrace  to  have  a  young  girl  running  off,  and 
eloping  with  a  stranger  from  the  roof  that  shel-' 
tered  her  and  the  shop  that  learned  her  to  bleach 
and  trim,  and  the  woman  that  took  her  in  when 
she  was  a  parentless  orphan,  with  neither  father 
nor  mother  ?  "What's  that  ?  "I  did  take  her  in 
more  ways  than  one!"  Clear  out,  I  say!  go 


80  MISS    SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW. 

home  to  your  mother,  and  run  away  with  the 
first  counterfitter  that  comes  along.  I  thank 
Heaven  I've  kept  out  of  such  scrapes,  if  I  have 
had  my  own  way  to  make  in  the  world  !  Go 
along  with  you !  you  needn't  stop  to  look  for 
your  thimble.  I'll  send  it  home  on  a  dray  to  your 
ladyship — hire  a  horse  and  cart  a  purpose.  Go 
along,  I  say,  and  take  in  washing  for  a  living,  as 
your  mother  had  to,  before  you  came  to  me  to 
eat  and  drink  at  my  expense,  and  learn  the  trade 
of  the  best  milliner  in  Pennyville.  ~Not  a  word ! 
I  won't  listen ! 

She's  gone,  and  I'm  "  alone  with  my  grief." 
Oh,  Alvira,  Alvira  Slimmens!  you  built  your 
house  upon  a  sandy  foundation,  and  now  it's 
tumbled  down,  and  buried  your  heart  in  its 
ruins.  Didn't  I  say  a  bird  in  the  hand  was 
worth  two  in  the  bush  ?  as  I've  proved  to  my 
own  satisfaction  long  ago.  I'll  never  forgive 
them !  I'll  ruin  them,  if  it's  in  my  power !  I'll 
sue  him  for  five  thousand  dollars,  and  bring  his 
own  wife  in  to  prove  his  perjury.  His  wife! 
Oh,  Wiggleby  !  Wiggleby !  I  allowed  myself  to 
lie  awake,  and  dream  that  that  term  of  endear 
ment  would  be  applied  to  me.  I  can't  be  so  mad 
at  you  as  I  want  to  be.  I  ain't  half  so  mad  at 


MISS    SLIMMENS's    WINDOW.  81 

you  as  I  was  at  Joshua  Stebbins;  but  I  feel  a 
good  deal  worse.  I  may  jest  as  well  give  up, 
and  be  an  old  maid,  and  done  with  it.  I'll 
never  put  my  hair  in  papers  again;  and,  if  I 
didn't  need  'em  to  eat  with,  I  believe  I'd  sell  my 
teeth.  Crying?  Yes,  the  tears  is  literarily 
washing  the  paint  all  into  streaks  on  my  cheeks  ; 
and  I  stand  here  before  the  glass,  and  see  it,  and 
don't  care  a  straw.  I  never  felt  so  completely 
used  up  before.  I'm  worse  off  than  the  old 
woman  that  was  "  cutting  and  contriving  all  day 
to  get  a  nightcap  out  of  a  sheet."  I've  been 
cutting  and  contriving  for  twenty  odd  years  to 
get  a  husband,  and  I  hain't  got  one  yet ;  and  the 
material  is  all  used  up;  and  this  last  is  the 
unkindest  cut  of  all. 

"  Oh,  ever  thus,  from  childhood's  hour, 

I've  seen  my  fondest  hopes  decay ! 
I  never  loved  a  tree  or  flower, 

But  'twas  the  first  to  fade  away  ; 
I  never  nursed  a  nice  young  man 

That  from  a  runaway  buggy  fell, 
Binding  his  wounds  as  a  woman  can, 

But  left,  as  soon  as  he  got  well." 

I'll  shet  and  lock^the  door!     There  shan't  a 
customer  get  in  this  day !     I'll  lock  the  door  and 
4* 


82  MISS     SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW. 

put  down  the  curtain  before  the  window,  and 
take  off  my  back-braid,  and  take  out  my  teeth, 
and  unlace  my  corset,  and  hang  up  my  hoop,  and 
go  in  my  bedroom,  and  have  a  good  comfortable 
cry! 


CHAPTEK  YII. 

JOSH   STEBBINS'S   WIFE'S    FIRST   TEA-PARTY. 

GOOD-MOKOTNG,  Miss  Peters;  glad  to  see 
you  out  again,  after  jour  ninth.  Take  a 
chair  and  rest  yourself.  Let's  see  !  it's  nigh  on 
to  seven  weeks  old,  ain't  it  ?  and  this  is  the  first 
time  you've  been  in  to  see  a  neighbor.  You've 
had  sickness,  and  been  pretty  low  this  time.  All 
I  can  say  is,  it's  a  mercy  you  ain't  in  your  coffin, 
and  Peters  looking  around  for  some  woman  to 
take  care  of  his  orphans.  Thank'ee,  I  don't  feel 
at  all  well.  I've  had  trouble  o'  mind  lately ; 
them  'prentices  of  mine  behaved  so  shamelessly, 
and  I've  had  other  troubles  besides.  There's 
nothing  brings  the  wrinkles  so  quick  as  trepida 
tions  of  the  mind,  Miss  Peters.  I  shouldn't  won 
der  if  1  looked  as  much  as  thirty  years  old,  since 
Clara  Browne  played  me  that  trick.  I  hadn't 
any  heart  to  fix  up  any  for  several  days,  and  I 


84: 


don't  know  what  would  have  stirred  me  up  to 
pick  up  my  crumbs,  but  that  invitation  to  a  tea- 
party  to  Miss  Stebbins's.  I  expected  to  see  you 
there,  as  much  as  could  be.  Wasn't  invited  ?  Is 
it  possible  ?  There  hasn't  been  no  trouble,  has 
there  ?  I  suppose  it's  because  you've  been  sick 
ever  since  she  come,  and  haven't  called  on  her; 
but  I  don't  think  sh'd  any  business  to  be  so  par 
ticular,  when  she  must  a  known  it  was  because 
you  wasn't  able.  She  comes  from  a  smaller 
town  than  Pennyville,  and  it  don't  become  her 
to  put  on  airs. . 

"Well,  I  didn't  feel  like  going  out  into  company 
much,  but  I  thought  I'd  go  jest  out  of  curiosity, 
to  see  what  was  to  be  seen ;  and  la  !  I  haven't 
been  so  amused  in  a  long  time.  I  believe  I've 
always  been  considered  as  of  an  observatory  dis 
position  ;  I  went  a  purpose  to  use  my  eyes  and 
ears,  and  I  used  'em.  There's  queer  people  in 
Pennyville,  Miss  Peters,  very  queer  people  ;  and 
anybody 'that's  made  a  study  of  physiology,  as  I 
have,  is  apt  to  discover  the  peculiarities  of  their 
acquaintances.  I  felt  myself  very  much  im 
proved  by  my  visit ;  had  several  of  my  favorite 
theries  conformed  in  an  astonishing  manner, 
especially  my  thery  of  oilyfactories — them's 


85 

noses,  I  suppose  you're  aware — which  I  learned 
out  of  that  highly  useful  and  progressive  paper, 
the  "  Laws  of  Life."  This  is  an  age  of  very  pro 
gressive  progress,  Miss  Peters,  and  I'm  glad,  for 
one,  to  have  been  permitted  to  exist  during  its 
continuance.  Don't  you  find  it  so?  Science 
are  making  gigantic  strides  toward  some  ful 
minating  point  of  glory  ;  physiognomy  and  elec 
tricity  are  running  a  race,  to  see  which  shall  first 
reach  the  jail;  the  magnetical  telegraph  is 
stretching  itself,  like  a  boa-restricter,  "  across  the 
bosom  of  the  vasty  deep ;"  and  the  comet  is 
waving  its  flashing  tail  for  hundreds  and  hun 
dreds  of  miles  in  the  hemisphere,  giving  astrono 
mers  an  unparallaxed  chance  for  stereoscopic 
views.  But  excuse  me,  Miss  Peters ;  I  didn't 
intend  to  touch  upon  these  extended  toptics  when 
I  began — my  enthusiastic  nature  frequently 
makes  me  aggressive — and  I'll  come  to  the  tea- 
party  directly. 

Well,  I  fixed  up  in  my  best,  for  one  or  two 
reasons  of  my  own,  principally  to  let  Miss  Steb- 
bins  see  that  Pennyville  wasn't  behind  Salem 
Four-Corners  in  the  fashions.  I  put  four  yards 
of  the  stiifest  kind  of  bunnit-wire  around  the  bot 
tom  of  my  hoop-petticoat,  and  put  on  six  of  the 


"  Laws  of  Life,"  gathered  on  a  string,  for  a  bustle, 
and  I  guess  when  I  got  there  I  took  up  about  as 
much  room  as  anybody.  All  the  visitors  admired 
my  head-dress  §o  much  !  I  must  show  it  to  you.  r 
Isn't  it  sweet  ?  There's  a  whole  piece  of  narrow 
pink  ribbon  in  it,  besides  the  lace  and  artificials, 
and  I  was  a  whole  evening  putting  it  together. 
Well,  I  went  early,  to  see  everybody  come  in, 
which  is  half  the  fun  of  going  to  meeting  or  to  a 
party.  There  was  nobody  arrived  previous  to 
me,  except  old  Miss  Grant,  and  she  always  goes 
at  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Miss  Stebbins — 
have  you  seen  her  ?  she's  a  little  thing,  with  a 
face  like  an  apple  and  a  form  like  a  dumpling, 
no  shape  to  her,  no  style — was  dressed  in  a  brown 
silk  gownd,  that  I'll  bet  anything  had  been 
turned,  and  linen  collar  and  undersleeves,  to 
make  people  think  she's  equinomical,  when  the 
whole  town  knows  she  is  spending  Stebbins's 
hard  earnings  like  water.  Why,  I  could  tell,  the 
first  time  I  seen  her,  the  moment  I  looked  at  her 
oilyfactories — kinder  broad  and  riot  exactly 
turned  up,  but  just  a-going  to  be — that  she 
couldn't  calkilate  the  difference  between  skim 
milk  and  cream.  Stebbins's  first  wife  used  to 
make  all  her  own  butter,  with  that  cow  of  theirs, 


87 

and  this  un  buys  six  pound  a  week,  and  gives 
the  children  the  top  of  the  milk  for  their  dinners. 
Them  children  are  fatting  up  beyond  bounds, 
and '11  all  look  like  their  stepmother  before 
spring.  I  wonder  how  she  persuades  him  to  let 
her  go  on  so — he  used  to  keep  his  first  wife 
under  his  thumb  till  she  didn't  know  whether 
her  soul  was  her  own  or  his'n.  She  must  do  it 
by  coaxing,  for  nobody  could  ever  drive  Steb- 
bins  ;  and  I  think  a  woman  that  '11  coax  a  male 
creature  that  calls  himself  a  man  is  in  small 
business ;  I  wouldn't  make  a  fool  of  any  of  the 
selfish  sex,  by  patting  and  petting  him  like  a 
great  baby* 

As  I  said,  there  was  nobody  but  old  Miss 
Grant  there  when  I  arrived.  Miss  Stebbins  was 
as  pleasant  as  a  basket  of  chips,  said  she  believed 
Miss  Slimmens  and  her  husband  were  old  friends, 
and  she  hoped  I'd  be  as  friendly  with  her;  then, 
after  we'd  chatted  a  few  minutes,  she  begged  to 
be  excused,  saying  she  guessed  she'd  have  time 
to  mix  her  biscuits  before  anybody  else  come, 
and  then  'twould  be  oif  her  mind.  I  was  just 
acliing  for  a  chance  to  get  in  her  kitchen,  to 
see  how  it  looked;  so  I  jumped  up  and  said  I 
wouldn't  excuse  her,  but,  if  she'd  excuse  me,  I'd 


88  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

keep  her  company  ;  so  we  left  old  Miss  Grant  to 
her  knitting,  and  I  followed  her  into  the  pantry. 
Sich  a  kitchen  and  cupboard  as  that  was !  To 
be  sure,  it  wasn't  exactly  dirty,  but  things  wasn't 
in  the  order  they  used  to  be,  and  I  wondered  if 
they  didn't  ache  to  get  back  in  the  nice  rows 
they  used  to  be  kept  in.  I  never  see  any  one 
with  that  kind  of  a  nose  that  can  know  the 
meaning  of  the  word  order.  But  I  will  say  there 
was  plenty  of  nice  victuals  on  the  shelf,  all 
dished,  and  ready  to  go  on  the  table.  I  offered 
to  set  the  table,  while  she  was  a-mixing  up  her 
biscuits,  so  as  to  get  a  good  chance  to  peek 
around.  I  thought  she  didn't  seem  exactly  will 
ing,  but  she  thanked  me  very  polite,  and  couldn't 
refuse. 

"  It's  something  of  a  knack  to  make  nice  soda- 
biscuits,"  said  I,  as  I  set  the  honey  and  peach- 
preserves  on  the  table. 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  said  she  ;  "it  was  a  long  time 
before  I  could  get  'em  to  suit ;  but  now,  if  there's 
anything  I  pride  myself  on,  in  the  cooking  line, 
it's  soda-biscuits,"  said  she.  "  I  scarce  ever  make 
a  mistake.  Mr.  Stebbins  is  very  fond  of  'em 
with  honey." 

"  You  might  pride  yourself  on  all  your  cook- 


89 

ing,  so  far  as  that  goes."  says  I,  as  I  placed  a 
beautiful  pound-cake  beside  the  preserves. 

Jest  then  then  there  was  a  rap  at  the  front 
door.  Miss  Stebbins  had  measured  out  her  flour, 
her  shortnin',  and  her  milk,  had  mixed  the  cream 
tartar  in  the  flour,  and  put  the  soda  in  the  milk. 
"  I'll  have  to  wait  before  I  make  up  the  dough 
and  roll  it  out,"  said  she,  "  till  it's  time  to  put'em 
in  the  oven."  And  taking  off  her  check  -apron, 
she  told  me  to  leave  the  rest  of  the  table  and 
come  along  and  see  who  it  was. 

But  I  managed  to  stay  behind  a  minute,  put 
ting  the  cheese  on  a  plate,  for  an  idea  had  come 
in  my  head  to  play  her  a  little  trick.  If  you'll 
promise  on  your  word  and  honor,  as  true  as  you 
live  and  breathe,  and  keep  the  breath  of  life, 
not  to  betray  me  to  nobody,  Miss  Peters,  I'll  tell 
you  what  I  done,  for  the  joke  is  too  good  to 
keep.  I  didn't  do  it  out  of  any  bad  feeling,  but 
just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing,  you  know ;  I 
always  was  fond  of  a  practical  joke,  when 
nobody  was  really  hurt.  Of  course,  I  couldn't 
have  a  spiteful  feeling  against  Miss  Stebbins,  for 
she  never  did  me  any  harm ;  and  as  I  saw  she 
had  plenty  of  good  light  bread,  I  thought  I'd 
take  down  her  pride  a  little  ;  so  I  jest  stole  into 


90 

the  pantry  quick  as  a  cat,  and  put  an  extra 
spoonful  of  soda  in  her  milk,  and  was  back  in 
the  setting-room  in  time  to  see  Parson  Higgins's 
wife  come  in,  in  that  everlasting  old  purple  silk 
of  hers.  She's  smarted  it  up  with  new  trimming 
— black  velvet  around  the  sleeves  and  cape.  I 
always  do  notice  her  nose,  but  I  noticed  it  then 
more  than  ever;  it  seems  to  get  longer  and 
sharper  every  time  I  look  at  it;  just  the  kind 
that's  always  poking  itself  into  other  people's  busi 
ness — a  thing,  of  all  things,  that  I  hate  and  des 
pise  !  I  have  my  faults,  like  other  folks,  but  I 
thank  goodness  that's  not  one  of  them  !  -It's  been 
a  mystery  to  me  how  Parson  Higgins,  meek  as 
he  is,  has  been  able  to  sustain  his  place  so  long 
with  a  wife  with  them  kind  of  oilyfactories ;  but 
1  suppose  its  useful  in  sewing-circles  and  mis 
sionary  meetings.  It's  a  very  efficient  kind  of 
a  nose,  if  it  isn't  one  of  the  handsome  sort; 
them  kind  can  turn  out  a  great  deal  of  work, 
and  that's  what's  most  wanted  in  a  minister's 
wife.  She  and  I  never  did  agree  very  well,  and 
since  I've  sent  all  my  scraps  of  silk  and  satin  to 
the  other  society,  for  pin-cushions,  she's  been  as 
cool  as  a  cucumber.  We  were  uncommonly 
civil  to  each  other,  which  is  generally  a  sure 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  91 

sign  that  folks  don't  feel  like  hugging  and  kiss 
ing  each  other  from  love.  Human  nature  is 
awful  depraved,  Miss  Peters,  and  when  two 
women  is  so  dreadfully  polite,  it's  a  pretty  sure 
symptom  that  there's  some  kind  of  hypercriti- 
cism  going  on  behind  it.  We  had  scarcely  got 
done  paying  our  compliments  and  manifesting  an 
interest  in  each  other's  health,  when  the  rest  of 
the  company  began  to  arrive  pretty  thick.  Them 
two  twin  peas,  Philista  and  Philistina  Podd, 
made  their  appearance  simultaneously  together, 
as  usual,  both  smiling  like  two  cabbage-roses, 
both  with  red  merino  dresses  on,  both  with  black 
ribbons  around  their  necks,  pinned  with  cameo 
pins,  both  with  two  little  water-curls  on  their 
cheeks,  and  black  velvet  streamers  flying  down 
their  backs,  and  both  said,  "How  do  you  do, 
Miss  Stebbins?"  in  the  same  voice,  at  the  same 
time,  and  both  made  a  curchy  at  the  same 
minute,  and  sat  down  together  on  the  sofa.  I 
don't  believe  it  would  be  bigotry  for  one  man  to 
marry  both  them  girls,  for  both  of  'em  together 
don't  know  as  much  as  one  ought  to,  and  I  defy 
Miss  Sharp's  spectacles  to  tell  'em  apart.  I  may 
have  my  faults,  but  being  like  anybody  else 
aint  one  of  'em,  thank  goodness !  I  don't  inti- 


92, 

mate,  and  I  can't  be  intimidated.  Then  there 
was  Squire  Waldon's  wife,  as  fat  and  good-na 
tured  as  ever,  with  her  ribbons  a-flying  out  like 
rainbows,  and  her  face  as  red  and  as  broad  as 
the  setting  sun..  She  went  round  and  shook 
hands  with  everybody,  one  at  a  time,  asking  'em 
how  their  ma,  and  pa,  and  little  brother,  and 
darling  sister  was,  and  was  so  sorry  when  she 
heard  anybody  was  sick,  and  gave  so  many 
directions  about  what  they  must  do  to  get  well, 
and  was  so  intensely  interested  in  Emeline  Jane's 
cough,  telling  her  to  come  round  to-morrow  and 
she'd  give  her  a  bottle  of  cherry  pectoral,  or 
some  other  stuff,  and  regretted  so  much  to  hear 
that  Sally  Thomas's  grandfather  had  the  rheuma 
tism,  and  finally  sat  down  by  that  tejus  old  Miss 
Grant,  and  got  her  to  tell  over  all  her  ailments, 
from  the  sprain  she  got  in  her  ankle,  last  winter, 
slipping  on  the  ice,  to  the  loss  of  appetite  that 
had  afflicted  her  since  yesterday,  till  I  was  dis 
gusted.  Miss  Waldon  is  a  good  soul  as  ever 
lived ;  the  only  trouble  is,  she's  too  good.  She 
lets  people  lead  her  wherever  they've  a  mind  to ; 
she  gets  imposed  on,  every  day  of  her  life,  by 
somebody.  I  don't  believe  she  ever  turned  a 
beggar  away  since  she  was  a  housekeeper,  no 


93 

matter  how  much  of  a  flagrant  he  might  be, 
without  giving  him  something ;  and  she  believes 
everything  that's  told  her,  unless  it's  something 
bad  about  somebody.  Every  sick  person  in 
Pennyville,  you'd  think,  was  some  relation  of 
hers,  she  way  she  nurtures  and  sticks  by  them. 
As  I  said  before,  she's  too  good ;  it's  tiresome  to 
see  a  person  so  everlastingly  good-natured.  She 
has  no  discrimination ;  I  can't  respect  a  woman 
that's  eternally  getting  taken  Jp.  by  every  kind 
of  a  compositor.  I've  no  doubt  I've  my  failings, 
but  lack  of  discrimination,  I  flatter  myself,  isn't 
one  of  'em ;  her  worst  enemy  can't  accuse  Alvira 
Slimmens  of  being  easily  made  a  fool  of. 

Did  you  ever  see  anybody  dress  in  such  hidjns 
taste  as  Miss  Barker  ?  I  could  hardly  keep  from 
holding  up  my  hands  when  she  came  in,  that 
afternoon  !  She'd  made  an  extra  effort  to  look 
fine,  because  Joe  Taylor  was  expected  in  during 
the  evening,  to  see  the  girls  home,  and  she's  set 
her  cap  for  him  in  good  earnest.  Sich  taste! 
you'd  a  died  a-laughing  when  she  made  hei 
depot  into  the  room. 

"  She  wore  a  wreath  o'  roses 

On  the  night  when  first  we  met." 

She  had  a  wreath  of  silver  artificials  all  around 


94  MISS   SLIMMENS  S   WINDOW. 

her  head,  tied  behind  with  a  long  blue  ribbon. 
She's  dreadful  dark-complected,  and  blue's  terri 
ble  unbecoming  to  her.  You  know  how  short 
and  squatty  she  is  ?  "Well,  she  had  on  a  hoop  as 
big  as  mine,  and  a  pea-green  silk  dress,  that  was 


high  in  the  neck,  with  a  lace  ruffle,  making  her 
look  like  a  choked  chicken  around  her  throat ; 
then  she  had  orange-colored  bows,  all  up  and 
down  the  front,  and  a  sash  of  the  same,  and  her 
undersleeves  was  trimmed  with  red.  She  seemed 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  95 

as  if  she'd  tried  to  see  how  humbly  she  could 
make  herself  look  If  I  had  such  outlandish 
taste  as  that,  I'd  commit  death  by  suicide  within 
a  week.  * 

But  of  all  the  creatures,  I  think  the  "Widow 
Wilson  bears  away  the  palm-leaf!  All  she 
thinks  of  is  getting  married  again,  I  know,  jest 
as  well  as  if  I  could  see  through  her.  Poor 
"Wilson  has  only  been  in  his  grave  three  years, 
and  a  more  devoted  husband  I  never  see  than 
he  was ;  his  soul  seemed  sot  on  that  young 
thing,  that  was  nothing  but  a  child  at  the  best, 
and  uncapable  of  depreciating  his  affection  as  it 
ought  to  be.  I  believe  it  was  sinful  for  him  to 
think  so  much  of  her — the  reason  he  was  taken 
away.  All  he  lived  for  was  "  his  Lizzie ;"  she 
used  to  set  on  his  knee  like  an  overgrown  baby, 
with  her  white  frocks  on  and  her  curls  crisping 
around  her  neck ;  and  now  that  he's  gone  and 
left  her  with  plenty  of  property  and  everything 
to  be  comfortable  with,  she  must  go  to  casting 
reproach  on  his  grave  by  looking  out  for  another 
companion.  What's  that?  "You've  never 
seen  her  scarcely  look  up  since  his  death,  and 
out  nowhere  but  to  meeting?"  You've  thought 
her  a  poor,  heart-broken  little  thing  ?  Well,  if 


96  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

you'd  seen  her  day  before  yesterday,  to  the  tea- 
party,  you'd  have  altered  your  opinion.  She 
come  in  as  demure  as  a  kitten,  with  her  black 
frock,  that  she  keeps  <*n  a  purpose  to  contrast 
with  her  white  neck,  and  sot  down  by  the  minis 
ter's  wife,  and  had  hardly  a  word  to  say  to  us, 
but  when  the  men  begun  to  come  in,  just  before 
supper,  she  brightened  up  like  a  sun  after  a 
shower.  *  What  do  you  think  she  done  ?  Jest  as 
I'd  got  up  to  go  and  set  by  Mr.  Hartly,  the 
gentleman  who's  come  as  a  partner  in  Squire 
Waldon's  law-office,  she  flirted  out  of  her  seat 
on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  and  went  and  set 
down  by  his  side,  on  the  sofa,  and  commenced 
sich  a  close  conversation  with  him,  that  none  of 
us  could  get  in  a  word  edgewise;  though  he 
wanted  to,  bad  enough,  for  he's  an  old  bachelor 
of  very  agreeable  manners,  and,  they  say,  the 
intellectualist  person  in  Pennyville — that  is,  of 
the  male  sex.  I'd  just  made  up  my  mind  to 
interrupt  her,  and  give  Mr.  Hartly  a  chance  to 
see  there  was  some  persons  full  as  intelligent  as 
Miss  Wilson  in  our  village,  when  Miss  Stebbins 
come  to  the  door  to  say  that  tea  was  ready — 
she'd  been  out  the  last  half  hour  a  preparing  it. 
I  saw  she  looked  worried,  and  I  surmised  the 


MISS   SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW.  97 

reason.  r  Mr.  Stebbins  seemed  surprised  at  the 
flustered  look  on  her  face,  which  had  been  so 
mighty  pleasant  before  she  went  out ;  but  when 
we  all  filed  into  the  dining-room  and  took  our 
places  at  the  table,  and  he  lifted  the  plate  of 
biscuits  to  pass  'em  around,  the  mystery  was 
explained.  He  looked  at  her  so  inquiring  and 
mortified-like,  that  I  thought  she  would  burst 
right  out  a-crying,  for,  you  see,  this  was  her 
first  attempt  at  entertaining  company,  and  she's 
a  childish  thing,  anyhow.  Such  biscuits  you 
never  saw!  as  green  as  grass  in  streaks,  and 
smelling  of  saleratus  enough  to  drive  a  person 
out  of  the  room.  "  I  don't  see  how  I  come  to 
make  such  a  mistake,"  said  she,  in  a  distressed 
voice ;  "  I  never  did  before.  The  company  will 
have  to  make  out  on  bread,  for  they  cannot  eat 
my  biscuits,  I'm  afraid." 

"  Young  housekeepers  is  liable  to  mistakes," 
said  Miss  "Waldon,  soothingly,  "  and  your  bread 
is  excellent,  good  enough  for  the  queen ;  so  don't 
fret  a  minute  about  your  failure,  Miss  Stebbins — 
pray,  don't !" 

"  She's  always  hit  it  to  a  T,  before,"  said  Steb 
bins,  oneasily. 

"  I  guess  it  was  because  I  tried  too  hard,"  said 
5 


98 

his  wife,  trying  to  smile ;  "  still,  I  can't  account 
for  it.  I'm  positive  the  measure  was  correct." 

"'Tain't  worth  speaking  about,  Miss  Steb- 
bins,"  said  I,  ready  to  burst  with  laughing, 
secretly,  to  see  her  pitiful  face.  "  We've  all  eat 
worse  many  a  time,  and  anybody  that  can't 
make  out  a  meal  on  what  you've  sot  before  'em 
ought  to  go  hungry.  I  suppose  you  find  Joshua 
a  little  particular,  on  account  of  having  such  a 
superior  cook  for  his  first  wife ;  but c  time  works 
wonders,'  and  I've  no  doubt  you'll  make  out 
very  well  after  a  while." 

I'm  afraid  she'll  find  me  rather  a  sorry  com 
forter,  for  she  didn't  really  rally  the  whole  of 
the  rest  of  the  evening  ;  but  as  for  me,  I  was  in 
excellent  spirits  at  the  success  of  my  innocent 
little  joke,  especially  as  I  had  a  seat  next  to  Mr. 
Hartly,  and  kept  by  him  pretty  much  of  the 
time  after  we  left  the  table.  I'd  made  up  nay 
mind  to  impel  him  to  see  me  home,  just  to  spite 
that  Widow  Wilson — not  that  I  cared  anything 
about  him,  for  this  was  the  first  of  our  acquaint 
ance — but  the  forward  thing  got  the  start  of  me, 
and  carried  him  off  before  my  eyes.  It  takes 
them  widows  to  come  around  the  men.  A 
young  lady  like  myself  would  be  ashamed  to 


MISS   SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  99 

practise  sich  arts  as  they  resort  to.  I'm  not 
perfect,  no  more'n  some  others,  but  hypocrisy 
and  artifice  isn't  one  of  my  faults,  thank  gra 
cious  !  I  do  think  a  designing  widow  one  of  the 
most  .shameless  of  the  female  sex. 

What!  must  you  be  going?  I'm  real  sorry 
you  wasn't  to  the  party ;  Miss  Stebbins  ought  to 
have  invited  you,  though  I  suppose  you  couldn't 
have  gone  if  she  had.  Do  bring  that  sweet 
little  darling  of  yours  over  with  you,  the  next 
time  you  come !  I  dote  on  babies,  especially  on 
your'n,  Miss  Peters,  they're  all  such  little  loves ! 


CHAPTEE   VIII. 

AN  "ARGOS-EYED"  SPIDER  WEAVES  A  WEB  FOE  A 
FLY. 

THERE  goes  Lizzie  "Wilson,  stealing  by  in 
her  deep  mourning ;  you'd  think  her  face 
was  as  melancholy  as  her  garments,  if  you  didn't, 
see  it  all  in  a  glow,  like  a  young  girl's.  I  won 
der  where  she  can  be  going  this  forenoon,  so 
early !  into  Martin's  store,  I'll  bet,  to  buy  some 
thing  pretty  to  set  off  her  face.  Like  as  not, 
she's  going  to  put  on  second  mourning,  to  imitate 
to  a  certain  person  that  she  doesn't  feel  so 
afflicted  as  she  did  a  while  ago.  No  !  she's  gone 
by  the  store ;  and  now — yes,  as  sure  I'm  here, 
peeking  through  this  curtain,  she's  gone  into 
Squire  "Waldon's  office.  "Well,  if  that  isn't  carry 
ing  matters  on  pretty  boldly,  I  wouldn't  say  so ! 
"What  a  blessing  it  is  my  window  looks  up  and 

down  the  street  so  far,  and  over  *hat  other  road 
100 


101 

that  crosses  it,  too.  I  should  miss  some  rich 
sights,  if  it  wasn't  for  this  window.  Squire  Wai- 
don  isn't  in  his  office,  for  I  see  him  drive  away 
in  his  buggy  half  an  hour  ago.  Of  course  she'll 
come  right  out,  when  she  finds  he  ain't  there ; 
for  any  woman  must  know  it  would  be  highly 
improper  for  her  to  remain  alone  with  an  un 
married  man  in  his  office,  even  on  business — 
which  it  isn't  likely  she  has  any.  I'll  bet  any 
thing  she  knew  the  squire  was  out,  and  took  this 
opportunity  to  visit  Mr.  Hartly  alone.  I'm  going 
to  set  here  with  my  work  and  keep  watch  how 
long  she  stays.  It's  half-past  nine  now  by  the 
clock.  I  feel  so  ugly  since  Clara  Brown  went 
away,  I'm  just  aching  to  give  somebody  Jessie  ! 
Speaking  of  Clara,  I  expect  it  would  be  policy 
in  me  to  tell  Dora  Adams  she  can  come  back  to 
the  shop.  I  hear  she's  promised  to  go  to  Miss 
Fudge's,  and  if  I  make  an  enemy  of  her,  she 
may  tell  some  things  I'd  rather  have  kept. 
'Tennyrate,  I  don't  want  her  to  go  over  to  Miss 
Fudge's  side!  that  woman  has  been  trying  to 
get  start  of  me,  ever  since  she  come  to  Penny- 
ville  and  set  up  her  opposition  to  an  old-estab 
lished  shop  like  mine.  Dora  must  be  kept  away 
from  her  ;  I'll  go  over  to  her  mother's  this  even- 


102 

ing,  and  tell  'em  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  for 
give  and  forget  the  past,  and  do  the  best  I  can 
by  her,  if  she'll  be  as  good  a  girl  as  she  used  to 
be.  Dora's  such  an  easy-tempered  little  thing, 
she'll  come  back  in  a  minute ;  and  I  must  say 
she's  better  taste  than  anybody  in  this  village, 
myself  excepting.  I  find  it  quite  too  hard,  get 
ting  along  without  her  handy  fingers ;  besides,  I 
don't  feel  so  mad  at  her  as  I  did  before  I  made 
the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Ilartly.  Perhaps  it's  all 
for  the  best  that  Mr.  AViggleby  fell  in  love  with 
Clara  Brown.  Goodness  alive  !  there  lie  is  now  ! 
My  heart  is  right  up  in  my  month!  It's  the 
first  time  I've  sot  eyes  on  him.  since  he  came 
back  from  his  bridal  tower.  He  is  a  handsome 
man,  that's  undeniable ;  but  he's  not  so  much 
dignity  as  Mr.  Ilartly,  and  I  don't  feel  never  so 
much  overcome  as  I  thought  I  should. 

Ten  minutes  by  the  clock,  and  Widow  Wilson 
hasn't  stirred  out  of  that  office  yet !  She  must  have 
set  down  to  a  regular  flirtation,  for  any  ordinary 
business  could  have  been  enacted  in  less  time 
than  that.  Here  comes  Miss  Belden  after  her 
cap-border.  I  hope  she  won't  stay  long,  for  I 
don't  care  to  lose  sight  of  that  office-door.  I'm 
bound  to  see  who  submerges  from  it,  and  when  I 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S    WINDOW.  103 

Good  morning,  Miss  Belden !  Come  for  your 
cap-border?  I've  got  it  all  ready  pinned  up  in 
paper;  it's  only  fifty  cents.  I'm  in  an  awful 
hurry  tliis  morning ;  never  was  in  such  a  flurry 
in  my  life!  Both  my  'prentices  is  gone,  you 
know,  and  I've  everything  to  do  myself  right  in 
the  busiest  season  of  the  year.  You'll  excuse 
my  talking  much,  for  when  my  fingers  flies  so 
fast  I  must  keep  my  mouth  shet.  I've  seven 
orders  to  finish  by  Saturday  night.  Don't  go ! 
you  can  set  as  long  as  you  like,  if  you'll  excuse 
my  keeping  on  with  my  work.  Well,  if  you 
must,  you  must,  I  suppose.  Good  bye.  Run  in 
again,  soon. 

A  good  riddance !  Seventeen  minutes  by  the 
clock!  Aha,  Widow  Wilson!  you  don't  guess 
who's  keeping  an  eye  on  your  proceedings  !  You 
think  your  widow's  weeds  are  going  to  give  you 
impunity  from  remark,  when  they're  all  the  more 
reason  why  a  woman  should  deport  herself  dis 
creetly. 

Twenty  minutes!  I'm  perfectly  scandalized 
by  such  conduct ! 

Twenty-three  minutes,  and  no  signs  of  that 
black  dress  intruding  itself  from  that  door  yet ! 

Twenty-seven  minutes  by  the  clock  1 


104 

Thirty  minutes,  and  there  she  comes  !  Now, 
if  any  one  can  explain  what  business  could  keep 
an,  unprotected  female,  and  a  widow,  a  full  half- 
hour  in  a  lawyer's  office,  all  alone  with  an  un 
married  man,  they  may  do  it  to  their  own  satis 
faction,  but  they  can't  to  mine !  I'm  fur  from 
being  of  a  suspicious  disposition — I  never  believe 
anything  bad  of  anybody  till  it's  proved — but 
what  a  person  sees  with  their  own  eyes,  and 
counts  by  the  clock,  they  are  excusable  for 
believing.  Here  she  comes !  tripping  by  *with  a 
face  as  innocent  as  the  day.  That  face  might 
deceive  an  angel  of  light,  but  it  can't  Alvira 
Slimmens.  Now  I  don't  really  think  there's  any 
thing  wrong  between  her  and  Mr.  Hartly,  but 
she's  trying  to  catch  him,  and  has  invented  some 
excuse  for  going  to  see  the  squire,  to  get  a  chance 
to  make  an  impression,  and  that's  as  great  a 
crime  in  my  eyes  as  any  she  could  be  guilty  of. 
She's  had  one  husband,  and  now  she'd  better 
stand  back  and  let  other  folks  have  their  chance  ! 
I  won't  put  up  with  her  interference.  She'll  hear 
of  this  adventure  before  a  week  is  out ;  I'll  bet 
my  head  on  that.  Some  people  in  Pennyville 
have  found  out  before  this  there's  a  pair  of 
Argos  eyes  in  it  that  can  see  in  more  directions 


105 

than  one ;  and  if  a  married  woman  and  a  widow 
cannot  exercise  any  more  prudence  than  she  has, 
she  must  suffer  the  consequences ;  I  shan't  hold 
myself  responsible. 

Here  comes  Mehitable  Green.  She's  the 
sharpest  nose  in  the  village ;  it  always  gets  into 
my  shop  some  time  before  its  owner  is  visible. 
As  Campbell's  Minstrels  says :  "  Coming  events 
cast  their  shadows  before,"  and  I'm  awful  afraid, 
always,  when  she's  in  here,  that  she'll  knock 
down  some  of  my  fancy  articles  with  that  prog 
nostic  of  her'n.  It's  better  at  scenting  out  a  pre 
cious  piece  of  scandal  than  a  pig's  snout  is  at 
rooting  out  chestnuts.  I'll  put  a  flea  in  her 
ear  before  she  gets  through  with  her  visit,  that'll 
do  the  business  for  Widow  "Wilson;  and  that 
without  running  any  particular  risk  myself. 

La !  Mehitable  Green,  is  that  you  ?  Come 
right  in,  do !  You're  the  very  person,  of  all  my 
friends  and  acquaintances,  I  was  the  most  wish 
ing  to  see.  I've  been  so  busy  lately,  I've  had  no 
chance  to  hear  the  news,  and  of  course  you  can 
post  me  all  up  about  Pennyville  sayings  and 
doings.  Sich  a  favorite  as  you  be  in  the  com 
munity  must  know  pretty  much  all  that's  a-stir- 


106  MISS   SUMMER'S   WINDOW. 

ring.     Set  down,  and  we'll  have  a  good,  old- 
fashioned  chat. 

By  the  by,  did  you  meet  Miss  Wilson  just 
before  you  got  here  ?  She  just  passed  by  here 
on  her  way  from  Squire  Waldon's  office.  The 
squire  has  gone  to  the  country ;  so  I  suppose  she 
and  Mr.  Ilartly  must  have  had  a  nice,  quiet 
visit,  seeing  she  stayed  the  bigger  part  of  the 
forenoon  with  him.  Hey  ?  Oh,  I  don't  know ; 
IwswesS)  of  course !  These  widows  with  property 
always  have  plenty  of  business  to  enact  with  all 
the  marriageable  lawyers  that  come  in  their  way ! 
Don't  you  wish  you  and  I  had  some  sich  good 
excuse  for  making  a  two  hours'  visit  all  alone 
on  Mr.  Hartly  ?  not  but  that  it's  perfectly  pro 
per — Lizzie  "Wilson  never  does  anything  but  the 
very  properest — and  I  wouldn't  say  it  wasn't  for 
the  world.  Of  course  she  had  important  law 
matters,  or  she  wouldn't  have  stayed  so  long — 
especially  in  that  private  office  where  Mr.  Hartly 
keeps  his  desk  and  books!  !Nb,  I  don't  say  it! 
I  don't  say  anything,  Miss  Green!  and  I 
wouldn't  have  you  mention  this  little  concurrence 
on  no  account.  Miss  Wilson  and  I  are  good 
friends ;  and  if  I  knew  anything  bad  about  her, 


107 

I  wouldn't  say  it.  Yon  must  promise  me  on 
your  word  and  sacred  honor  not  to  speak  of  this 
little  affair ;  for  it  may  turn  out  not  to  mean  any 
thing.  I'd  hate  to  put  a  wrong  construction 
upon  anybody,  let  alone  such  a  pink  of  propriety 
as  Miss  Wilson.  "What,  already?  why,  you've 
hardly  set  long  enough  to  get  rested,  and  I  did 
want  a  good  long  set-down  with  you.  Be  sure, 
now,  not  to  speak  of  what  has  passed  between 
us ;  I've  told  it  in  the  strictest  confidence,  be 
cause  I  know  if  I  could  rely  upon  any  one's 
voracity,  it  would  be  Mehitable  Green's. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WANTED,   A   WIFE  :     MISS    SLIMMENS   ANSWERS   THE 
ADVERTISEMENT. 

HAND  me  that  paper,  Dora,  that  come 
around  Miss  Tuttle's  bunnit.  It's  a  Bos 
ton  paper,  and  lias  got  the  latest  news,  probably. 
If  it  should  have  one  of  Longfellow's  sweet,  dear 
poems  in  it,  I  should  want  to  cut  it  out  and  paste 
it  in  my  scrapbook.  I  idolize  that  man!  his 
poetry  is  so  mellifluent,  and  his  sentiments 
always  congeal  with  my  own.  I've  ever 
regretted  that  it  has  been  our -fate  not  to  meet. 
If  we'd  have  met  in  time,  the  destiny  of  Alvira 
Slimmens  might  have  been  very  different  from 
the  fashionable  milliner  of  Pennyville.  I  feel  it 
within  me,  that  I  am  not  all  that  I  was  culpable 
of.  I  do  hope  there's  some  more  of  that  "  Aristo 
crat  of  the  Breakfast-Table  "  in  here.  I  want  to 
find  out  if  that  forward  chit  of  a  schoolma'am  is 
going  to  succeed  in  her  arts  and  endeavors,  which 

108 


109 

I  can  see  through  as  plain  as  a  millstone,  and 
should  think  he  might. 

Next  to  the  murders  and  elopements,  I  always 
read  the  deaths  and  marriages — not  that  I  know 
the  people,  but  it's  so  exciting ! — and  next  the 
advertisements.  Bless  mj  stars  !  Well,  did  you 

ever !     (Reads] : 

• 

"  MATRIMONIAL. — A  young  gentleman,  a  stud 
ent  of  Cambridge,  who  has  graduated,  and  is  now 
pursuing  the  study  of  the  law,  is  desirous  of 
opening  a  correspondence  with  some  young  lady, 
with  a  view-to  matrimony.  She  must  be  young 
and  tolerably  good-looking,  not  entirely  destitute 
of  fortune,  of  an  amiable  disposition,  and  possess 
a  large  share  of  the  sensibility  and  enthusiasm 
which  makes  the  gentler  sex  so  charming.  He 
would  prefer  a  lady  of  poetic  temperament, 
though  not  by  any  means  a  blue-stocking,  viva 
cious,  witty,  and  with  good  musical  taste.  The 
advertiser  offers,  in  return  for  requiring  so  much, 
youth,  health,  an  ardent,  impulsive  heart — quite 
new,  having  only  seen  service  some  three  or  four 
times — good  prospects  in  his  profession — being- 
said  to  possess  unusual  talents  for  the  law — a 
handsome  form  and  face,  with  a  particularly  kill- 


110 

ing  moustache,  a  romantic  mind,  and  agreeable 
manners.  Any  young  lady  answering  to  the 
above  description,  and  worth  not  less  than  three 
thousand  dollars,  with  which  to  pay  a  few  debts 
contracted  at  college  and  set  up  a  sweet  little 
suburban  establishment,  yclept  'love  in  a  cot 
tage,'  will  be  sure  of  receiving  the  most  candid 
treatment,  and  of  finding  a  husband  in  every 
way  calculated  to  make  her  happy.  Address, 
with  stamp  to  pay  return  postage,  ADONIS,  Cam 
bridge,  Massachusetts." 

Dora,  go  and  light  the  brimstun  under  the 
bleach-barrel.  (Soliloquizes ;)  I'll  answer  his 
advertisement  this  very  evening.  How  fortunate 
that  I  picked  up  that  are  paper  !  I  might  never 
have  known  how  near  I  had  come  to  what  I  was 
wantitfg,  and  missed.  I'm  the  very  person  to 
suit  him,  in  every  particular.  If  I'm  not  exactly 
young,  I  can  make  him  think  I  am,  by  the  appli 
cation  of  paints  and  emetics,  and  plenty  of  ring 
lets  and  ribbons.  He  describes  my  temperature 
as  well  as  if  he  knew  me — "  sensitive  and  enthu 
siastic  " — and  I  flatter  myself  I  can  lead  in  the 
choir  about  as  strong  as  any  woman  in  Parson 
Higgins's  meeting-house,  so  far  as  music  is  con- 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  Ill 

cerned.  1  don't  just-  like  that  paying  tip  of 
his  debts,  though  I  presume  they  don't  amount 
to  over  eighteen  or  twenty  dollars  for  candy  and 
cigars,  which  all  young  gentlemen  must  have, 
and  I'm  arriving  at  an  age  when  it  will  be  neces 
sary  for  me  to  make  some  sacrifices  to  get  a 
young,  good-looking  husband.  Oh,  my !  my 
heart  vacillates  at  the  bare  prospect.  If  there's 
anything  I  admire  in  a  man,  it's  an  arduous 
disposition,  such  as  he  confesses  to,  and  I  always 
have  thought  I  should  take  to  them  Cambric 
students,  they're  so  dashing  and  just  a  little  bit 
wild.  •  "What's  the  use  of  my  slaving  and  toiling 
in  this  shop  for  the  last  twenty  years,  if  I  can't 
enjoy  my  money,  now  it's  made  ?  Only  to  think 
of  a  suburban  residence,  all  nestled  down  in 
roses  and  marigolds,  and  such  a  sweet  air  of 
delusion  about  it,  and  me  a  waiting  for  my  hus 
band  to  come  home  to  tea,  like  a  wife  that  Mr. 
Irving  tells  about,  whose  husband  met  with  a 
reserve  of  fortune,  and  my  Adonis  coming  up  the 
revenue,  while  I  stood  on  the  porch  watching  for 
the  first  glimpse  of  his  lovely  mustache  breaking 
through  the  distant  foliage  like — like  anything. 
Oh,  it's  too  good  to  be  true  !  I'm  afraid  he  won't 
love  me ;  but  then,  as  he  is  in  such  want  of  funds, 


112 

which,  no  doubt,  his  father  sternly  denies  him, 
but  he  will  give  him  plenty  by  and  by,  maybe 
he'll  take  me,  if  I  am  over  twenty  ;  and  when  I 
once  get  him  under  my  thumb,  trust  Alvira 
Slimmcns  for  pulling  his  hair  if  he  don't  behave ! 
He'll  have  to  be  a  good  boy,  if  he  gets  pin-money 
out  of  my  pocket.  I'll  engage  to  manage  him 
after  the  ceremony  is  once  said. 

Got  that  brimstun  to  smoking,  Dora  ?  "Well, 
run  up  to  the  stationary  store,  and  bring  me  a 
sheet  of  pink  letter-paper  and  a  pink  wrapper  to 
correspond  with  it — the  best  he's  got — and  two 
postage-stamps,  and  get  him  to  make  me  a  good 
pen,  with  a  fine  p'int,  oil-boiled.  And  oh!  don't 
forget  a  stick  of  blue  sealing-wax ;  and  remem 
ber  to  tell  him  the  best  paper  he's  got ;  I'd  prefer 
it  with  some  problematical  device,  like  a  Cupid 
flying,  or  a  rosebud,  or  two  doves  with  their  bills 
entertwined,  or  something  similar.  Stay  !  you 
might  as  well  get  three  sheets  of  paper  and  three 
wrappers,  as  it's  likely  I  shall  want  as  much  as 
that  in  the  course  of  events. 

You  can  go  to  bed,  Dora ;  it's  half-past  eight 
— time  children  was  abed.  I've  a  little  writing 
to  do,  and  wish  to  be  left  to  the  solitude  of  my 
own  meditations  while  I'm  a  rolling  up  my  hair. 


113 

She's  gone  off  giggling,  the  little  minx.  I'd  have 
kept  her  at  work  an  hour  yet,  if  I  hadn't  been, 
aching  all  day  to  get  at  that  letter.  It'll  take  me 
till  midnight  to  compose  it.  Now  everybody's 
gone,  and  the  street  is  quiet,  and  my  hair  in 
papers,  and  my  corset's  unlaced,  I  feel  just  in  the 
mood.  I'll  write  it  down  on  a  piece  of  foolscap 
first,  and  copy  it  out  fair  and  square.  Let  me 
see !  how  shall  I  begin  ? 

Dear  sir.  !No,  that's  not  romastic  enough  ; 
everybody  begins  that  way.  My  dearest  Adonis ; 
that's  two  affectionate  for  the  first,  it'll  do  better 
for  the  second.  Let's  see !  Unknown  but 
admired  Adonis.  Unknown  but  congenial. 
Unknown  but  kindred-souled ;  that's  the  very 
touch ! 

"  UNKNOWN  BUT  BJNDRED-SOTJLED  ADONIS  :  I 
have  read  your  advertisement  in  a  Boston  paper. 
It  has  made  an  impression  upon  me  for  which  I 
cannot  account.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  after  long 
resisting  the  inclinations — through,  motives  of 
feminine  delicacy,  which  ever  prompts  the  true 
of  my  sex  to  i  blush  unseen,'  as  the  poet  says — 
I  have  found  it  impossible  longer  to  withstand 
what  is  evidently  my  destiny.  '  Fate  cannot  be 


114: 

controlled,'  says  Byron,  who  is  one  of  my  favor 
ite  authors.  Tell  me,  is  he  not  also  yours  ?  But 
you  need  not  answer ;  I  know  lie  is  !  The  same 
initiation  which  tells  me  what  your  spirit  is  des 
tined  to  be  to  mine  tells  me  this.  Is  it  not  curi 
ous  ?  But  thus  it  is  with  those  who  were  created 
for  one  another.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  we  were 
already  intimately  acquainted,  as  if  I  had  poured 
out  into  your  soul  the  burning — but  pardon  me ! 
my  enthusiastic  temperature  is  carrying  me  away 
from  the  dictates  of  that  modesty  which  is  my 
idol.  Dear  Adonis — there !  '  from  the  fullness 
of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,'  and  I  don't 
want  to  waste  time  by  throwing  away  this  letter, 
so  again  I  beg  you  to  pardon  the  arduous  impulse 
of  a  youthful  mind — it  seems  to  me  as  if  I 
must  have  seen  you  somewhere ;  perhaps  it  was 
only  in  my  dreams.  Your  description  of  yourself 
is  my  exact  ideal  of  a  sweet  young  man,  the  very 
portrait  which  has  ever  slumbered  in  my  breast. 
Dare  I  hope  that  mine  will  be  so  satisfactory  ?  I 
am  twenty-five — a  little  older  than  you  hope  for, 
am  I  not  ? — but  my  affections  are  virgin ;  they 
have  been  sacredly  cherished  until  I  should  meet 
the  hero  of  my  musings ;  and  with  one  of  my 
arduous  and  romantic  niind  and  exhuberent  dis- 


115 

position,  a  few  years,  more  or  less,  will  make  no 
difference.  My  lips  have  never  yet  been  pressed 
by  mortal  man ;  I  have  kept  the  inferior  youths 
of  this  vicinity  at  a  proper  distance.  I  am  not 
positively  handsome — my  mirror  tells  me  that — 
but  I  am  called  intellectual-looking,  have  long, 
flowing  ringlets,  that  curl  naturally  and  impart 
an  air  of  childish  grace  to  my  otherwise  almost 
too  dignified  demeanor ;  my  cheeks  are  of  a 
lovely  red,  I  have  hazel  eyes — enviable  people 
call  them  grey ;  but  all  the  poets  have  grey  eyes, 
you  know  : 

4  Eyes  of  grey — 
The  soft  grey  of  the  brooding  dove  ' — 

and  with  my  figure  I  must  say  I  do  not  think 
you  will  be  displeased.  I  have  ever  loved  poetry 
and  the  contemplation  of  the  sublime  and  gor 
geous  in  nature.  Although  I  do  not  profess  to 
be  a  poetess,  my  emotions  often  impel  me  to 
the  composition  of  verses  on  my  favorite  sub 
jects.  I  inclose  6  An  Ode  to  the  Moon,'  which 
was  an  entirely  impromtu  suffusion,  which  I 
wrote  by  moonlight  one  evening  during  the  past 
summer,  and  which  was  published  synonymously 
in  the  'Pennyville  Eagle,'  and  much  admired. 


116 

My  disposition  is  gay  and  infantile,  but  not  so 
flippacious  as  that  of  many  young  ladies  of  the 
present  day.  Last  and  least — for  of  course  young 
people  of  such  sentiments  as  you  and  I  are  more 
or  less  indifferent  to  peculiary  considerations — I 
have  the  sum  you  mention,  three  thousand  dol 
lars,  in  my  own  right,  unincumbered,  though 
not  all  cash.  My  property  consists  in  a  dwelling 
and  lot,  which  can  be  readily  sold,  as  it  is  in  the 
centre  of  a  flourishing  village,  part  of  the  stock 
of  a  flourishing  fancy  and  millinery  establish 
ment,  and  a  thousand  dollars  in  the  Jewell  Ban*k. 
If  we  suit  each  other,  as  my  spiriticious  percep 
tions  insures  me  we  shall,  I  shall  not  object  to 
paying  up  in  full  such  small  debts  as  your  youth 
ful  indiscreetness  may  have  incurred.  As  to  the 
6  love  in  a  cottage,'  it  suits  my  tendencies  so  well 
that  I  shall  be  willing  to  sell  out  my  Penny ville 
property  and  invest  the  amount  in  a  sweet, 
deluded  retreat,  somewhere  amid  the  '  classical 
shades '  of  Bostin,  which  I  have  always  longed 
for — the  intellectual  privileges  of  its  inhabitants. 
Hoping  that  your  heart  will  respond  to  the  senti 
ments  which  oscillate  in  mine,  and  that  you  will 
appoint  a  personal  meeting  soon,  I  shall  look 
imintermittingly  for  your  reply  to  this.  When 


117 

could  you  appoint  our  first  interview,  and  at 
what  spot  ?  Let  it  be  soon.  With  mingled  sen 
sations  of  anticipation,  your  spirit  ~bride, 

"  ALVIKA  SLIMMENS. 

"  P.S. — I  send  you  three  postage-stamps. 

"  P.S. — If  you  require  peculiary  aid  to  enable 
you  to  visit  this  region  of  the  country,  let  me 
know  the  amount.  Do  not  be  modest. 

"P.S. — Alvira  cannot  rest  until  she  hears 
further  from  her  Adonis  1" 


CHAPTER   X. 

SHE  IS  ACCUSED   OF   SCANDAL. 

AH  !  Mr.  Hartly,  how  do  you  do  ?  "Walk  in 
and  take  a  seat.  I'd  begun  to  give  up  all 
hopes  of  the  honor  of  a  call  from  you.  Plea 
sant  weather  for  October,  isn't  it  ? — quite  balmy. 
I  guess  we're  getting  our  Injun  summer,  that 
delightful  season  which  our  aboriginal  bards 
appear  to  be  so  fond  of.  I  remember  Longfellow 
speaks  of  it.  Do  let  me  take  your  hat — do  ! 
How  do  you  like  our  village,  Mr.  Hartly?  I 
suppose  you  begin  to  feel  to  home  here,  by  this 
time.  Find  the  people  unusually  well-informed 
for  a  rustaceous  neighborhood,  don't  you?  I 
hope  you'll  make  up  your  mind  to  reside  here  as 
a  permanent  residence.  "We  shall  hate  to  give 
you  up,  now  that  we  have  found  out  what  a 
treasure  you  are.  Gone  into  partnership  with 
the  squire,  I  reckon?  What's  that?  Come  to 

118 


119 

call  on  business  ?  lie  !  he !  The  female  sex  are 
not  supposed  to  know  much  of  such  affairs,  un 
less  they  chance  to  be  of  a  pragmatical  turn. 
But  what  is  it,  Mr.  Hartly?  I  am  curious  to 
know. 

WHAT  !  *  Miss  Wilson  has  got  out  a  warrant 
against  me  for  label,  and  you  have  come  to  serve 
it  ?  Ain't  you  ashamed  of  yourself,  to  pass  your 
self  off  for  a  gentleman,  and  come  to  take  advan 
tage  of  an  unprotected  female  in  that  way,  Mr. 
Hartly  ?  A  label !  I  never  said  a  word  against 
Elizabeth  Wilson  in  my  life,  never,  and  nobody 
can  prove  that  I  ever  did  !  What  damages  does 
she  sue  for  ?  «  A  thousand  dollars  !"  Well,  I 
hope  she  may  get  it.  These  things  has  got  to  be 
proved,  Mr.  Hartly,  and  I  defy  anybody  to  prove 
'em.  Where's  her  witnesses?  What  does  she 
say  I  said?  When  did  I  say  it?  Tell  her  to 
prove  it,  I  say ;  tell  her  to  prove  it !  I  <Mt 
excited,  but  I'd  like  to  know  what  I'm  accused 
of  saying,  and  who's  her  testimony.  "  Miss 
Wilson  was  very  much  grieved  and  hurt  to  hear, 
some  days  ago,  that  she  was  the  subject  of  false 
and  outrageous  stories,  which  were  being  circu 
lated  through  the  village!"  Well,  what  was 
them  stories  ?  "  That  she'd  been  known  to 


120  MISS   SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

spend  the  whole  forenoon  in  your  private  office, 
alone  with  you,  and  had  been  seen  corning  out 
of  it  just  before  daylight,  three  mornings  in  suc 
cession  !"  That  beats  the  pigs.  And  who  says 
/said  it?  "Miss  Wilson  has  taken  the  trouble 
to  trace  them  carefully,  and  has  found  that  they 
all  come  from  Mehitable  Green,  who  will  swear- 
in  court  that  she  had  it  every  word  from  me?" — 
from  me,  Alvira  Slimmens,  who  was  never 
known  to  say  a  bad  word  about  anybody,  as 
long  as  she's  lived,  in  the  village  of  Penny ville  ! 
That  Mehitable  Green  is  a  perfiduous  wretch  !  I 
never  said  one  word  of  it !  I  don't  remember  as 
I  ever  mentioned  Miss  Wilson's  name  to  her,  for, 
if  there's  a  person  in  this  village  that  everybody 
is  impelled  to  respect,  and  never  find  nothing  to 
say  about  her,  unless  it's  what's  good,  it's  Eliza 
beth  Wilson  ;  and  if  there's  a  person  in  this  vil 
lage  that  I  wouldn't  breathe  a  secret  to,  if  I  had 
one  to  breathe,  it's  that  Mehitable  Green.  Why, 
she's  known  as  a  scandalizer  and  a  labeller,  from 
Dan  to  Behemoth !  I'd  like  to  see  her,  and  see 
if  she'd  tell  me,  to  my  face,  I  said  it!  She 
dursn't  say  it  to  my  face,  bold  and  pernicious  as 
she  is?  She's  said  it  herself,  and  she  ought  to 
be  held  responsible  ;  SHE  ought  to  pay  damages  ! 


121 

A  thousand  dollars !  Why,  it  would  break  me  up, 
root  and  branch,  after  all  my  saving,  and  working, 
and  accumulating  in  the  millinery  line  !  Seri 
ously,  now,  you're  joking,  ain't  you,  Mr.  Hartly! 

There  she  goes,  now,  scringing  along  without 
coming  in,  as  if  she  was  afeard  to  meet  me  ! 
I'll  call  her  in  !  Mehitable !  Mehitable  Green  ! 
come  in  here  a  minit. 

So,  Mehitable  Green,  I've  gone,  and  done,  and 
been  a-saying  things  about  Miss  Wilson,  have  I  ? 
Oh,  you  needn't  deny  you've  laid  the  sin  at  my 
floor !  Here's  Mr.  Hartly,  who's  going  to  take 
your  deputation  that  you're  so  anxious  to  give. 
Now,  then,  out  with  it !  What  did  I  say  about 
Miss  Wilson ?  "I  said  I'd  seen  her  coining  out 
of  Mr.  Hartly's  office  before  daylight,  three  days 
in  succession  !"  Mehitable  Green,  I'll  tear  your 
eyes  out,  if  you  ever  say  that  again !  It's  a  per- 
fiduous,  malicious,  base,  and  unprovoked  false 
hood,  and  you  know  it !  Let  me  at  her !  don't 
retain  me,  Mr.  Hartly !  I  want  to  scratch  her 
face  for  her.  Well,  it  ain't  very  becoming,  that's 
a  fact,  sir,  but  I've  had  more  provocation  than  I 
can  bear.  Don't  go  yet,  sir.  I'll  be  calm  and 
collective,  if  you'll  remain  and  hear  it  out. 

"  I  did  say,  anyhow,  that  she  was  in  the  habit 
6 


122 

of  spending  her  forenoons,  when  Squire  Waldon 
was  out,  alone  with  his  pardner,  in  his  private 
room  ?"  "Will  you  take  your  Bible  oath  of  that, 
Mehitable  Green  ?  You'll  have  to  swear  to  this 
in  court.  Insinuated  it,  did  I  ?  Ha  !  ha !  we're 
coming  to  the  point,  Mr.  Hartly.  "  I  did  say  I 
see  her  making  a  two  hours'  visit  on  him,  in  his 
back  office,  the  other  morning,  and  that  I  sup 
posed  she'd  make  a  good  excuse  for  it !"  Well, 
that's  a  little  nearer  the  truth  than  you've  teched 
before.  Come  to  think  of  it,  the  last  time  Miss 
Green  was  in  here,  Miss  Wilson  had  just  passe<J 
by,  coming  from  your  office,  and  I  spoke  as  she 
passed,  and  said  she  must  have  some  law  busi 
ness  to  do,  as  she'd  been  in  the  squire's  office  the 
last  twenty  minutes,  and  that  I'd  no  doubt  it  was 
important  business,  as  she  had  considerable  pro 
perty  to  'tend  to.  That's  the  long  and  the  short 
of  the  whole  matter,  Mr.  Hartly,  and  if  Miss  Wil 
son  feels  hurt  about  it,  I'm  willing  to  apologize, 
though  of  course  I  can't  make  any  subtraction, 
as  I  only  stated  a  simple  fact,  without  the  least 
bad  intention. 

Oh,  yes,  Miss  Green,  I've  no  doubt  you're  sorry 
you  misunderstood  me,  now  that  the  shoe  is  on 
the  right  foot,  and  the  right  person  is  in  danger 


123 

of  damages  for  label.  If  you're  sorry,  you'd  bet 
ter  go  to  Miss  Wilson  and  say  so ;  perhaps  she'll 
forgive  you,  and  perhaps  she  won't,  /intend  to 
see  her  before  to-morrow  morning,  for  if  there's 
a  person  in  this  village  it  would  distress  me  to 
have  a  falling  out  with,  it's  Lizzie  Wilson,  who's 
as  sweet  as  she  is  handsome,  and  as  good  as  she 
is  sweet.  I  hope,  Mr.  Hartly,  you  haven't  such 
a  poor  opinion  of  me  as  to  think  I  could  injure 
an  angel  like  her,  and  an  unprotected  female, 
iike  myself,  with  no  one  to  defend  her  from  the 
slanders  of  the  world.  Good-afternoon,  sir.  Give 
my  lo\re  to  Lizzie,  and  tell  her  I'll  call  and  make 
it  satisfactory  to  her.  6^0cZ-afternoon,  Miss  Green. 
Good  gracious,  but  I  was  scared  when  he  made 
known  his  errand  !  That  Mehitable  hasn't  half 
the  sense  I  give  her  credit  for.  I'd  no  idea  she'd 
carry  the  matter  so  far,  and  make  herself  liable 
to  the  law.  If  she'd  had.  any  prudence  or  wit 
about  her,  she  could  have  done  as  I  done — hinted 
things  so  darkly,  nobody  could  have  fixed  any 
thing  upon  her ;  but  a  person  that's  born  a  fool 
can't  help  themselves,  I  suppose.  The  fat  came 
pretty  near  being  all  in  the  fire.  It  would  have 
been  terrible  unfortunate  for  my  correspondent 
to  come  on  here  and  hear  that  I  was  in  danger 


124: 

^ 

of  losing  my  thousand  dollars  through  a  suit  for 
label ;  and  he's  to  be  here  this  very  evening. 
Oh,  my !  my  heart's  right  in  my  mouth  all  the 
time.  Eight  o'clock  this  evening  is  the  eventful 
hour  !  I've  sent  Dora  home  to  her  mother,  and 
slicked  up  the  shop,  and  now  I've  nothing  to  do 
for  four  mortal  hours,  but  to  do  these  curls  over 
on  the  curling-tongs,  put  a  little  more  carmine 
on  my  cheeks,  dress  up  in  my  pink  silk  and  lace 
cape,  and  set  and  anticipate.  I  do  hope  the 
stage  won't  tip  over,  or  any  accident  happen.  I  \ 
shall  be  fidgeted  to  death  with  suspense,  if  he's 
not  punctual  to  the  minit.  I  wonder  if  he'll  see 
how  old  I  really  am.  I  intend  to  have  the  lamp 
pretty  dull,  and  use  plenty  of  emetics. 

Dear  me !  I  hope  that  five-dollar  bill  I  sent 
him  will  be  enough  to  meet  his  expenses  in 
coming.  How  frank  it  was  of  him  to  ask  me  for 
it,  and  what  a  stingy  old  father  he  must  have,  to 
keep  such  a  nice  young  man  on  such  a  short 
allowance.  It's  very  liberal  of  him  to  expect 
only  three  thousand  dollars  in  a  partner,  when 
he'll  be  heir  to  thirty  thousand  when  his  parent 
dies.  It  proves  that  he  isn't  mercendary  in  his 
character.  I  can't  abide  pursemoney  in  a  man. 

Dear !  dear !  how  slow  that  clock  ticks !     It 


125 

never  was  so  dilutory  before.  I'll  see  how  I 
look  now  I'm  attired.  It's  liard  to  pass  the  time 
with  only  one's  own  reflections.  How  are  you, 
Miss  Sliminens  ?  I  must  say  you're  looking  your 
best ;  you've  done  your  cheeks  and  eyebrows 
beautifully.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  took  him 
in.  Do  your  best,  Alvira ;  you'll  never  have 
another  chance. 

"Wasn't  that  the  gate  ?  I  wish  I  durst  peak 
through  the  curtain.  No,  not  him  yet.  I'll  put 
a  little  perfumery  on  my  lips,  and  chew  these 
cinnamon-drops,  for  he  may  wish  to  salute  me, 
which  would  be  proper,  considering  our  rela 
tions.  There  !  it's  HIM  ! 


CHAPTEE   XI. 

SHE   IS   EDIFIED   BY   THE   THANKSGIVING   SEEMON. 

THIS  is  a  sweet  day  for  Thanksgiving ;  the 
sky's  as  blue  as  indigo !  I  was  very  much 
edified  by  Parson  Higgins's  sermon  this  morn 
ing.  You  ought  to  have  went,  Dora,  instead  of 
spending  the  time  flirting  around,  as  I've  no 
doubt  you  did.  He's  a  powerful  preacher,  the 
parson  is,  when  he's  a  mind  to.  His  subject, 
this  forenoon,  was  chanty;  he  divided  it  into 
nine  heads,  and  every  one  of  'em  was  worth  lis 
tening  to.  Some  people  inside  of  the  meeting- 
'  house  must  have  felt  hit,  if  they'd  a  particle  of 
conscience  left.  I  declare  I  don't  see  how  he 
dared  be  so  personal,  as  I  knew  he  was.  I  should 
have  thought  them  that  the  coat  fitted  would 
have  got  awful  mad.  He  said  there  was  other 
kind  of  charities  than  giving  things  away  to  the 
poor;  he  said  that  backbiters,  slanderers,  and 

126 


127 


evil-speakers  must  all  of  them  answer  for  their 
want  of  charity — that  putting  wrong  construc 
tions  on  people,  and  getting  up  trouble  in  fami 
lies  and  churches,  and  always  looking  on  the 
dark  side  of  things,  was  a  great  and  a  crying  sin. 
I  declare,  he  might  have  just  as  well  spoke  Miss 
Sharp's  name  and  Mehitable  Green's  right  out ! 
He  described  'em  exactly ;  and  I  couldn't  help 
looking  over  to  see  how  they  took  it.  I  expected 
to  see  their  faces  as  red  as  fire,  with  a  guilty 
conscience ;  but  la !  they  were  looking  as  cool 
and  unconcerned  as  could  be,  and  that  Miss 
Sharp  was  turning  her  head  to  look  at  me,  when 
she  ought  to  be  hanging  it  for  shame.  But  when 
the  parson  said  that  some  folks  took  credit  to 
themselves  for  being  very  benevolent  and  all 
that,  because  they  ground  the  faces  of  the  poor 
in  secret,  and  put  a  penny  in  the  contribution- 
platter  in  public,  I  jest  wanted  to  smile,  for  I 
knew  everybody  must  apply  it  to  Miss  Tucker, 
who  always  heads  the  missionary  paper  with 
fifty  cents,  and  who  pays  her  washerwoman  in 
cold  victuals  and  old  clothes.  Why,  I  heerd 
from  somebody  that  had  it  from  the  woman  her 
self,  that  the  last  time  she  washed  there — and 
she  had  such  a  big  washing  she  never  got  done 


128 


till  seven  in  the  evening,  and  her  three  children 
waiting  at  home  for  their  suppers,  poor  things ! 
— she  asked  Miss  Tucker  for  a  little  money,  for 
that  once,  as  she  wanted  some  very  much  to  buy 
her  some  wood  with ;  but  Miss  Tucker  said  she 
could  get  plenty  to  do  it  without  paying  cash ; 
however,  as  she'd  had  a  hard  day's  work  she'd 
pay  her  nice  and  liberal  in  what  would  be  better 
than  money ;  so  she  gave  her  a  little  bag  with 
nigh  about  a  peck  of  corn-meal  in  it,  and  a  ham- 
bone,  and  a  two-quart  basin  of  broken  victuals, 
and  a  great  bundle  of  old  clothes  to  make  over 
for  the  children.  So,  when  Miss  Smith  got 
home,  she  kindled  a  fire  with  some  sticks  she'd 
picked  up  on  the  way,  and  put  the  pot  over,  and 
made  a  good  lot  of  mush,  for  the  young  ones  was 
hungry,  having  went  without  their  dinners ;  and 
when  it  was  done,  the  meal  turned  out  to  be  so 
awful  sour  and  musty  that  the  children  cried 
and  said  it  was  nasty,  and  wouldn't  have  touched 
it,  if  they  hadn't  been  half  starved.  There 
wasn't  meat  enough  on  the  ham-bone  for  a  dog 
to  pick ;  a'nd  as  for  the  rest  of  the  stuff,  it  wras 
just  fit  for  the  swill-pail — /guess  it  come  out  of 
it.  So  after  she'd  got  the  young  ones  to  bed,  she 
thought  she'd  look  over  the  bundle,  and  see  if 


129 

she  could  find  something  to  run  up  a  frock  for 
Mary  before  she  went  to  sleep,  for  the  child 
needed  it  dreadfully ;  and  would  you  believe  it  ? 
there  wasn't  a  rag  in  the  whole  mess  fit  for  any 
thing  but  paper-rags.  She  said  they  wasn't 
worth  the  thread  and  the  time  she'd  have  to  put 
in  the  rotten  old  duds.  The  whole  stuff  she 
brought  home  wasn't  worth  twenty-five  cents, 
and  she'd  done  full  six  shillings'  worth  of  wash 
ing.  I  wonder  if  Miss  Tucker  didn't  think  of 
that,  when  the  minister  was  speaking. 

"Who's  that  ?  Open  the  door,  Dora.  "Ho  ! 
clear  out,  you  begging  little  brat  you !  I've  got 
no  old  shoes  nor  nothing  else  to  spare.  Oh,  yes ! 
"  father's  drunk  and  mother's  dead !"  they  always 
are.  Shet  the  door,  Dora  ;  I'm  cold,  with  that 
air  rushing  in  here  a  perfect  stream.  Didn't  I 
see  you  giving  that  little  beggar  a  three-cent 
piece  ?  Don't  ever  do  that  again,  encouraging 
the  little  thieves  to  come  around  my  shop.  No 
doubt,  he  was  an  impostor.  He'd  have  stole 
that  piece  of  crape  there,  if  he  could  have 
reached  it,  when  our  eyes  was  turned.  I  believe 
in  giving  to  the  poor,  when  you've  anything  to 
spare,  but  not  to  these  street  beggars ;  they're  all 
impostors,  every  one  of  'em !  I  might  have 
6* 


130  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

given  him  that  pair  of  blue  woollen  stockings 
that  I  said  I'd  never  darn  again,  his  toes  stuck 
out  so,  if  I'd  believed  the  little  rascal,  but  I 
didn't ;  besides,  I've  saved  them  stockings  to 
give  to  that  old  woman  that  does  my  scrubbing 
for  me.  She's  thankful  to  get  anything !  It's  a 
real  charity  to  give  her  work  ;  and  she's  willing 
to  take  most  anything  in  pay  she's  so  bad  off. 
Dear !  dear  !  Pd  have  got  right  up  and  walked 
out  of  church,  if  the  minister  had  hit  me  as 
plainly  as  he  did  Miss  Tucker. 

"  Charity  doth  not  behave  itself  tmseemly," 
said  Parson  Iliggins,  and  I  know  he  was  think 
ing  of  Miss  Grant  and  them  Podd  girls.  Did 
you  ever  see  girls  take  on  so,  as  them  Podds 
do  ? — so  fond  of  the  gentlemen !  Anybody  could 
see  they  are  crazy  to  get  married  ;  and  the  way 
they  giggle,  and  blush,  and  flirt  round  on  the 
very  church  steps,  to  say  nothing  of  their  para 
ding  themselves  past  Jim  Miller's  store  every 
day  of  their  lives.  There  they  go,  now,  in  their 
pea-green  merinoes  and  pink  bunnits,  sailing  by, 
making  an  errand,  I'll  warrant  you,  at  the  store, 
to  buy  a  row  of  pins,  as  like  as  not.  I  should 
think,  after  the  reproof  they  got  from  their  mini 
ster,  they  might  stay  in  the  house  for  one  day. 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  131 

"  Charity  is  not  puffed  up."  I  believe  Parson 
Iliggins  looked  straight  at  Miss  Dawson's  new 
bunnit  and  velvet  cloak  when  he  said  that. 
She's  getting  so  mighty  fine  she  can't  put  up 
with  Penny ville  fashions.  She  sent  off  to  Lowell 
to  get  her  bunnit,  instid  of  patternizing  me,  as 
she  used  to.  I'm  glad  he  give  her  a  hit.  That 
impudent  Miss  Sharp  nodded  over  to  me,  as 
much  as  to  say  he  was  a-hinting  at  my  marabout 
feather  and  white  terry  velvet ;  but  if  a  milliner 
can't  afford  an  occasional  good  bunnit  w^ho 
can? 

I  declare,  the  minister  didn't  spare  people's 
faults,  and  he  hadn't  ought  to ;  it's  a  preacher's 
place  to  warn  and  instruct  his  perishingers.  If 
he'd  a  hit  me,  I  should  have  said  just  the  same. 
It  was  as  good  as  a  play  to  me,  to  set  and  see 
people  squirm  that  had  their  toes  trod  on. 

I  guess  Miss  Green  felt  mean  about  all  she'd 
said  to  injure  Miss, Wilson.  I  do  believe  she 
wanted  to  catch  Mr.  Hartly  herself.  I  don't  see 
any  other  reason  for  her  slanders  and  the  trouble 
she  made. 

There  goes  the  parson  and  his  wife  now,  on 
their  way  to  Squire  Lawson's  to  dinner.  I 
expected  to  be  invited  to  meet  them  myself. 


132  MISS   SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

Mrs.  Lawson  must  be  getting  rather  stingy  in 
her  invitations.  Howsomever,  I  couldn't  go,  for 
I'm  expecting  company  myself  to  tea,  a  friend 
of  mine,  from  Boston,  the  same  who  called  here 
last  evening,  when  you  was  home.  You  may 
set  the  table,  Dora,  and  start  the  fire  in  the  kit 
chen  stove,  and  put  that  chicken  on  I  picked  this 
morning,  and  the  tea-kittle.  Put  some  peach- 
perserves  on  the  table,  and  that  cake  you  baked 
for  me  yesterday,  and  a  mince-pie,  and  them  bis 
cuits.  When  you've  got  everything  done,  you 
can  run  home  and  spend  the  rest  of  the  day  with 
your  mother.  I  would  ask  you  to  stay  to  sup 
per,  but  I  know  it  would  be  more  of  a  treat  to 
you  to  be  to  home,  and  you  can  take  one  of  them 
pies,  and  a  bowlful  of  that  quince-sass,  and  that 
other  fowl,  as  a  present  from  me  to  your  mother. 
If  there's  anything  else  you  want,  take  it,  for  I'd 
•Like  to  feel  you'd  just  as  good  a  meal  as  I  have. 
The  Lord  has  been  very  merciful  to  me  this  year, 
and  I  don't  want  to  be  stingy  of  his  bounties. 
I  feel  to  thank  him  for  all  his  providencies,  espe 
cially  his  throwing  that  Boston  paper  in  my 
way.  I've  reasons  that  you  don't  know  of,  Dora, 
but  will  soon,  for  regarding  it  as  the  most  cir 
cumstantial  providence  that  ever  occurred  to  me. 


HISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  133 

Don't  you  be  too  curious,  and  you'll  know  all 
before  a  week. 

I  haven't  seen  any  one  going  to  Peters's  to  din 
ner.  I  don't  believe  they've  asked  a  soul  out  of 
their  own  family ;  and  with  nine  young  ones  to 
feed,  I  shouldn't  think  they'd  want  to. 

There's  a  whole  carriage-load  of  folks  drove 
up  to  Stebbins's.  Run,  Dora,  come  here !  Do 
you  know  any  of  'em  ?  Neither  do  I.  It  must 
be  her  relations,  coming  to  keep  Thanksgiving. 
They're  some  of  'em  there  the  most  of  the  time. 
It  must  go  rather  against  the  grain  with  that 
stingy  Stebbins.  Serves  him  right!  needn't 
have  married  a  woman  who  brought  him  no 
thing  but  an  army  of  relations.  Do  see  how  she 
flies  out  the  door,  and  hugs  and  kisses  'em ! 
Hope  her  soda  biscuits  will  be  as  good  as  they 
were  the  night  I  was  there  to  tea.  People  call 
her  a  good  cook  !  Why,  them  biscuits  was  as 
green  as  grass  and  as  heavy  as  lead.  Thank  the 
Lord,  Stebbins  got  the  wool  pulled  over  his  eyes 
that  time.  There's  Stebbins  himself  come  out, 
now,  and  purtending  to  be  so  tickled,  laughing 
and  shaking  hands ;  but  he  needn't  purtend.  1 
know  that  man  better'n  most  folks  do,  and  I 


\ 

134: 

know  lie  is  sorry  for  some  things  lie  didn't  do,  as 
well  as  for  some  lie  did ;  but  it's  too  late  for 
repentance,  and  I  shan't  be  the  one  to  say  he 
isn't  as  happy  as  he  might  be.  If  he  could  have 
got  the  woman  he  wanted,  he'd  have  been  a  dif 
ferent  man. 

Hurry  up,  Dora,  or  you  won't  get  home  in 
time  to  cook  that  fowl  for  your  supper.  I  want 
an  hour  or  two  for  quiet  retrospection  before  my 
company  arrives.  A  mediative  mind  like  mine 
is  always  fond  of  solicitude  and  reflection.  I 
shouldn't  ever  write  any  poetry,  if  I  didn't 
indulge  in  these  reverential  moods.  I  really 
believe  I  could  compose  a  piece  this  afternoon, 
if  I  wasn't  agitated  by  anticipatory  sensations. 
Besides,  as  it's  Thanksgiving,  I  suppose  it  will 
be  perfectly  approbious  for  me  to  sing  a  few 
hymns.  I  don't  know  when  I've  felt  the  appro- 
biousness  of  a  hymn  as  I  did  one  of  them  that 
was  sung  this  morning.  When  I  reflected  upon 
what  might  have  been  and  what  was  to  be,  upon 
the  past,  the  fearful  past,  and  the  future,  the 
transcending  future,  upon  Clara  Browne's  run 
ning  awray  and  my  picking  up  that  Boston  paper, 
I  felt  my  heart  pouring  out  in  the  lines — 


135 


"  Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 

But  trust  Him  for  his  grace  ; 
Behind  a  frowning  Providence, 
He  hides  a  smiling  face." 

Since  I  come  home,  I've  composed  and  added 
these  few  lines : 

"  There's  better  fish  within  the  sea 

Than  ever  yet  was  caught ; 
The  Lord  has  spread  thy  net  for  thee, 
Then  trust  Him  as  thou  ought. 

"  He  filled  the  fishers'  nets  of  old, 

Do  thou  prepare  the  bait, 
Nor  let  thy  faith  and  hope  grow  cold, 
Alvira,  work  and  wait  I" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   NIGHT  BEFORE   THE   WEDDING. 

"T~  TNKOLL  that  bundle,  Dora,  and  see  what  I 
V-^  bought  you  this  morning,  when  I  was 
a-buying  for  myself.  Ten  yards  of  real  Swiss, 
lace  for  the  sleeves,  and  a  whole  piece  of  blue 
lutestring  ribbon  for  the  sash  and  tucks.  Do 
you  know  what  for  ?  Well,  that  dress  has  got  to 
be  made  and  fitted  by  to-morrow  night,  and 
you've  got  to  wear  it  and  stand  for  my  brides 
maid  !  I  knew  you'd  be  surprised.  It's  rather 
sudden,  but  you  know  I  always  was  a  believer 
in  "  love  at  first  sight ;"  and  when  two  persons 
of  contiguous  sentiments  meet,  and  feel  that  each 
has  met  the  pardner  of  their  destination,  that 
they  are  unanimous  in  every  respect,  what's  the 
use  of  putting  it  off  ?  As  my  sweet  Adonis — 
that's  his  synonymous  name,  Dora — says,  "  there's 
no  use ;  let  us  not  tremble  on  the  verge  of  bliss, 

136 


13T 

but  plunge  instantaneously  into  the  thrilling 
fountain  of  happiness !  Let  us  no  longer  remain 
apart — we  who  have  been  too  long  strangers 
upon  the'  same  globe,  yearning  for  each  other, 
yet  dissatisfied,  we  knew  not  why — knew  not 
until  we  met,  and  then  the  mystery  was  revealed. 
Let  us  become  one  in  the  eyes  of  the  tonsorious 
world,  even  as  in  spirit  we  are !"  Those  were 
his  very  words,  Dora.  Are  they  not  beautiful  ? 
How  could  I  persist  against  such  winning  per 
suasions  ?  I  could  not !  I  named  the  day,  and 
to-morrow  is  the  day!  To-morrow,  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  Alvira  Slimmens  will 
be  submerged  in  a  new  capacity. 

I've  had  but  a  short  time  to  mature  my  plans ; 
but  I  think  I  shall  leave  you  in  the  care  of  the 
shop  at  present,  and  all  the  profits  of  the  work  to 
be  yours ;  and  if  that  uncle  that  you  spoke  of, 
that  might  help  you  to  buy  out  the  stock,  comes 
forward  with  two  hundred  cash  down,  I'll  let 
you  have  the  shop,  with  good  time  for  your  pay 
ments.  Come !  measure  off  that  skirt,  and  run 
up  the  breadths ;  there's  no  spare  time  ;  yet  the 
time  seems  endless  to  me,  when  I  reflect  that  I 
shall  not  see  him  again  until  an  hour  before  the 
ceremony  is  to  be  performed.  He's  gone  back 


138  MISS    SUMMER'S   WINDOW. 

to  Boston  to  perfect  his  arrangements.  Oh, 
Dora,  if  you  could  see  him  !  He's  as  handsome 
as  a  picture,  and  the  sweetest  black  eyes,  and 
such  a  lovely  scarf  and  clothes,  and  a  ring  on  his 
finger,  and  his  hands  as  small  and  white  as  a 
woman's,  and  do  you  know  I  fancy  he  resembles 
Byron,  or,  at  least,  Byron's  Corsair !  I  never 
expected  to  be  so  superelatively  happy  !  "Wasn't 
it  fortunate  I  trimmed  up  them  caps  and  things 
just  before  Clara  Brown  run  away  ?  They're  all 
ready  for  an  emergency,  and  I've  nothing  to  do 
but  get  this  dress  made  and  pack  my  trunks. 
See  !  how  do  you  like  it?  I'd  a  sent  to  Lowell, 
but  I  hadn't  time ;  and  this  is  next  to  what  I 
wanted.  I  wanted  a  white  more-antic,  but  there 
wasn't  a  yard  in  Penny ville,  and  I  considered 
myself  fortunate  in  finding  this  silver  brocade. 
I  paid  three  dollars  a  yard  for  it,  at  Curtis's ; 
but  a  person  don't  get  married  every  day,  'spe 
cially  to  a  beautiful  young  student,  that  writes 
poetry  and  talks  the  dead  languages  as  fluidly  as 
his  mother's  tongue.  Hand  me  them  scissors, 
Dora.  Dear  me,  I'm  so  flurried,  I'm  afraid  I 
shall  spoil  the  set  of  it.  Won't  you  pull  my  cor 
set-laces  a  little  tighter,  till  I  fit  on  the  lining? 
Make  your  frock  as  pretty  as  you  can,  for  the 


'139 

ceremony  is  going  to  1)6  in  church  !  I'm  deter 
mined  all  Pennyville  shall  have  a  chance  of  see 
ing  that  Alvira  Slimmens  hasn't  gone  through 
the  woods  to  put  up  with  a  crooked  stick  at  last 
— not  she  ?  Mehitable  Green  will  burst  with 
envy,  to  say  nothing  of  them  twin  peas,  Philista 
and  Philistina  Podd.  Pve  heard  of  their  re 
marks.  I  guess  somebody  hasn't  been  any  worse 
off  for  a  chance  to  get  married  than  they  have  ; 
and  if  they  don't  feel  spiteful  wrhen  they  see  the 
bridegroom,  then  I  miss  my  guess.  There's  no 
body  in  Pennyville  that  will  begin  to  compare 
with  him.  Clara  Brown-that-was's  husband 
couldn't  hold  a  candle  to  my  Adonis. 

Snip  that  down  a  little  lower  in  front.  There ! 
how  does  that  set  ?  You  see,  it  all  come  of  my 
reading  the  advertisements.  He  advertised  in 
that  Boston  paper,  all  about  the  kind  of  a  wife  he 
wanted,  and  we've  been  holding  an  episculatory 
correspondence  ever  since.  He's  been  to  see  me 
twice,  and  we  were  mutually  fascinated.  The 
only  fault  I  can  find  with  him  is,  he's  almost  too 
pressing.  He  was  determined  I  should  set  the 
very  earliest  day  I  could,  and  overcome  all  my 
scruples  with  the  persuadingest  eloquence,  which 
I  could  not  possibly  resist. 


140  MISS    SLIMMENS's   WINDOW. 

"When  you  come  to  Boston  to  luy  your  milli- 
nary  goods,  Dora,  you  must  come  and  see  us. 
"We  are  going  to  live  in  the  subbubs,  in  the 
sweetest  spot ;  he's  described  it  all  to  me — a  lit 
tle  rustaceous  abode — a  nest,  he  called  it,  a  nest 
for  his  dove  ! — half  cot,  half  villain,  in  the  Gothic 
style  of  archetype,  standing  in  the  midst  of  a 
lawn,  empowdered  in  trees,  a  fountain  gambling 
in  the  mist,  a  portcullis  running  round  three 
sides,  the  road  to  Boston  just  visible,  here  and 
there,  through  the  intricacies  of  the  foliage,  roses 
twisted  round  the  pillows,  and  such  a  cunning 
little  China  padoga  in  the  back  garden  !  lie's 
gone  to  purchase  it  now.  That's  the  business 
which  keeps  him  from  my  side ;  otherwise,  he 
assures  me,  he  would  not  forsake  me  for  an  hour 
— that  is,  so  but  that  he  still  haunted  the  vicinity 
of  my  abode — till  we  were  one  !  He's  placed  the 
most  touching  confidence  in  me,  as  regarding  all 
his  peculiary  affairs.  I  know  just  what  his  ex 
pectations  from  his  stern  old  father  are,  who 
keeps  him  on  short  allowance  till  he  shall  settle 
down  into  a  prudent,  stiddy,  married  man.  He's 
going  to  pay  down  five  hundred  on  the  cottage, 
and  lay  out  two  hundred  more  on  the  furniture, 
which  is  to  be  in  readiness,  with  a  cook  in  tho 


kitchen,  and  the  tea-table  set  out,  on  our  arrival 
at  our  home,  when  we  have  completed  our  bridal 
tower.  Isn't  it  romantic  ?  I  was  so  pleased  with 
the  picture  he  drew,  just  like  a  novel,  of  our 
arriving  at  home  at  the  twilight  hour,  with  the 
lamp  lighted  in  the  parlor,  and  the  servant  open 
ing  the  door  to  the  new  master  and  mistress,  that 
I  drew  him  a  check  for  seven  hundred  dollars, 
to  get  everything  ready  beforehand,  though  I 
hadn't  calculated  at  first  on  laying  out  so  much 
until  everything  was  sure.  What's  that  ?  You 
should  have  thought  I  wpuld  have  been  afraid  to 
trust  a  stranger?  Me  and  Adonis  strangers! 
What  a  ludicrous  idea,  Dora!  It's  plain  you 
don't  appreciate  our  spirituous  relations ;  nobody 
but  a  kindred  spirit  could.  We've  been  ac 
quainted  millions  of  ages,  in  some  other  spear, 
Adonis  says,  and  I  believe  him.  To  be  sure,  I 
can't  exactly  recollect,  but  when  he  asked  me  if 
I  had  not  some  dim  foreboding  of  the  shadowy 
past,  if  I  had  not  always  felt  a  want  never  before 
satisfied,  if  I  had  not  seen  his  features  in  my 
dreams,  I  answered,  yes ;  and  when  he  pressed 
me  closer,  and  wanted  to  know  if  that  had  not 
been  the  undefinable  reason  why  I  had  rejected 
all  my  previous  suitors,  I  told  him  that  it  had 


142 

Oh,  Dora,  if  you'd  seen  how  delighted  he  looked 
when  I  gave  him  that  assurance,  you  wouldn't 
wonder  at  my  bliss.  His  face  beamed  with,  a 
soft  smile, 

"  Like  a  light  within  an  alabaster  vase," 

as  Tom  Moore  says,  and  he  folded  up  the  check 
for  seven  hundred  dollars  on  the  Lowell  Bank 
as  carelessly  as  a  piece  of  newspaper,  and  put  it 
in  his  pocket-book 

"  With  a  gesture  full  of  grace," 

and  squeezed  my  hands  and  looked  into  my 
"eyes.  Oh,  Dora !  He  placed  this  ring  on  my 
finger,  as  an  outward  testimony  of  our  engage 
ment.  It's  a  real  diamond,  of  the  first  water. 
Every  time  it  sparkles  it  puts  me  in  mind  of 
what's  coming ;  not  that  I  ever  forget  it  for  an 
instant,  but  it  seems  more  bonefido.  I  was  afraid 
he  would  be  displeased  when  he  learned  I  had 
accumulated  my  money  in  the  millinary  busi 
ness  ;  but  it  didn't  seem  to  make  a  bit  of  differ 
ence  with  him ;  he  laughed,  and  said  so  nicely 
that  a  "  bottle  of  frangiponi  would  remove  all 
the  odor  of  Boquet  de  Brimstone  from  these  pre 
cious  fingers  •"  and  then  he  put  the  ring  on  the 


143 

engagement  finger,  and  kissed  it,  and  I  felt  in 
the  seventh  heaven  of  rapturous  sensation. 

See  if  you  can  hook  up  this  lining.  I'll  hold 
my  breath — now !  Oh  no,  it's  not  a  bit  too  tight. 
It's  going  to  make  up  sweetly,  isn't  it  ?  1  stopped 
at  Mother  Brush's  on  my  way  along,  and  en 
gaged  her  to  bake  me  two  nice  loaves  of  cake, 
one  of  them  to  be  the  wedding-loaf.  I'm  going 
to  have  cake,  and  wine,  and  confectionary,  and 
after  the  ceremony  such  of  my  acquaintances  as  I 
invite  are  to  stop  in  and  congratulate  us.  The 
notes  are  to  be  sent  out  in  the  morning.  Won't 
there  be  a  flutter  in  Pennyville? — he!  he!  I 
think  I  see  Mehitable  Green  reading  hers.  I've 
asked  her  and  Miss  Sharp  on  purpose  to  see  how 
dumfounded  and  enviable  they  will  be.  "Won't 
I  be  polite  and  dreadfully  civil  when  Miss  Green 
comes  up  to  wish  me  joy ! 

Eight  o'clock,  a-ready !  One  day  more ! 
twenty-four  hours  of  "  maiden  meditation,  fancy 
free,"  and  Alvira  Slimmens  will  be  no  more.  » I 
don't  know  where  the  time  has  flew  to.  My 
dress  is  hardly  two-thirds  done ;  and  to-morrow 
I  shall  have  all  my  packing,  and  my  dressing, 
and  a  thousand  little  things  to  do.  "We  won't 
get  to  bed  before  midnight,  Dora.  Your  frock 


144:  MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW. 

is  going  to  be  charming.  Blue  is  very  becoming 
to  your  fair  complexion.  I  must  stop  sewing 
long  enough  to  put  my  hair  in  papers.  I  don't 
know  but  it's  fortunate  that  my  Adonis  is  going 
to  be  absent  all  day  to-morrow ;  'cause  I  can 
leave  my  hair  rolled  up  till  the  last  thing,  and 
needn't  be  bothered  with  rigging  up,  till  I  dress 
for  the  ceremony. 

Nine  o'clock !  I'm  glad  there's  an  hour  less. 
Dora,  hand  me  that  trimming  for  the  sleeves. 

Ten  o'clock !  Twenty-two  long  hours  still 
left! 

'Leven  o'clock !  Heigh-ho !  I  wonder  if  he's 
asleep. 

Twelve !  The  wedding-dress  is  done  !  Come, 
Dora,  go  to  bed 

One  o'clock  !  for  the  last  time ! 

Two!  I  wish  I  could  compose  myself  to 
slumber. 

Three !  I  hope  the  stage  won't  be  delayed,  or 
tip  over ! 

Four  o'clock !     "Will  morning  never  get  here  ? 

Five !  I  hope  he  doesn't  sn-o-r-r-r-e !  rr-r-e  I 
r-h-h-r  e ! 


CHAPTER  XIH. 

THE   WAY   IT   TURNED   OUT. 

SIX  o'clock,  and  he's  to  be  here  at  seven! 
Oli,  Dora !  I  shall  never  get  dressed  in  the 
world,  I'm  so  successfully  frustrated.  Hurry  on 
your  own  things,  and  be  ready  to  help  me  when 
I  get  my  hair  out  of  papers.  Is  that  cake  sliced, 
and  the  wine  on  the  server,  and  the  plates  and 
glasses  and  everything  in  order  ?  I  leave  it  all 
to  you ;  for  if  I  should  be  looking  right  straight 
at  'em,  I  couldn't  tell  whether  they  was  there  or 
not. 

These  curls  are  beautiful ;  they  never  looked 
better.  If  they'd  been  fruzzy  now,  or  the  weather 
had  been  wet,  and  straightened  'em  out!  I 
guess  Pennyville  has  been  in  a  stew  to-day,  if  it 
never  was  before.  Dear !  dear !  there's  only  one 
thing  lacking  to  my  peace  of  mind,  and  that's 
the  capability  of  looking  into  the  houses,  and 

7  145 


H6 

seeing  the  effects  of  those  little  notes  with  doves 
on  them,  that  went  fluttering  around  this  morn 
ing,  like  feathers,  and  lodging  in  people's 
dominces.  I'll  warrant  this  has  been  as  long  a 
day  to  some  others  I  might  mention  as  it  has  to 
the  bride-intended ;  some  others  whose  curiosity 
was  their  leading  trait,  and  who're  dying  this 
blessed  minit  for  eight  o'clock  to  see  how  the 
bride  is  dressed,  and  what  for  a  looking  person, 
Adonis  de  Mountfort,  Esq.,  the  bridegroom,  is. 

Do  see  how  the  men  are  gathering  about  the 
door  of  the  tavern,  down  the  street  there,  where 
the  stage  is  expected  to  stop !  Dark  as  it  is,  I 
can  count  more'n  twenty.  They're  there  to  see 
him  get  out  of  the  stage  when  he  arrives.  Lordy ! 
but  wouldn't  Miss  Sharp  like  to  go  over  there 
and  look  on,  too,  if  she  durst  to  ? 

Yes,  you're  all  right!  looking  sweetly.  Did 
you  tell  your  beau  to  be  over  to  the  tavern  to 
escort  Mr.  de  Mountfort  here,  and  to  be  all  ready 
to  transact  his  part  as  groomsman  ?  How's  my 
cheeks  ?  I  want  'em  just  a  little  red,  you  know, 
but  rather  pale.  Brides  are  always  rather  pale, 
you  know;  'specially  when  they're  young  and 
sensitive.  Oh,  Dora,  if  you  should  ever  be  in 
my  situation,  you'll  know  what  my  feelings  are ! 


147 

Don't  let  me  forget  anything,  particularly  my 
handkerchief,  for  I  shall  probably  shed  a  few 
tears,  and  want  something  to  hold  to  my  eyes. 
I  expect  to  be  very  much  affected ;  but  I  don't 
intend  to  faint,  if  I  can  help  it,  as  I  might  be 
liable  to  disarrange  my  bridal  tounare. 

Mercy !  how  the  time  does  keep  running  on ! 
Hand  me  my  dress.  I  must  say  this  is  the  most 
opprobious  dress  for  a  wedding  that  was  ever 
got  up  in  Penny  ville,  if  I  do  say  it,  that  made  it 
myself. 

Can  you  see  the  sextant  going  over  to  the 
meeting-house  yet?  O  yes !  he's  lighting  up 
a'ready.  My,  I  must  set  down  a  minute!  it 
gives  me  such  a  realizing  sense  of  what  is  about 
to  take  place,  I  am  completely  overcome.  Light 
ing  the  bridal  lamps  for  Alvira  Slimmens  at  last ! 
thank  goodness ! 

There  !  I  guess  I  shall  survive  in  a  short  time. 
You  may  hook  me  up.  Ugh !  that  was  some 
thing  of  a  squeeze,  wasn't  it!  Now  for  the 
orange  wreath  and  bridal  veil ! 

They're  on,  and  I  am  ready !  Do  you  see  the 
stage  yet  ? 

Seven  o'clock.  The  hour  for  his  arrival  has 
arrived  !  I  wish  it  wasn't  so  dark  out,  we  might 


148 

see  if  the  stage  has  drove  up  yet.  I  thought  I 
heard  wheels  several  minutes  ago.  ~Now  that 
Pm  all  ready  and  waiting,  I  feel  terribly.  I 
shall  be  all  in  a  trimble  after  a  few  more 
moments  of  suspension.  I  don't  know  what  to 
do  to  calm  myself,  unless  I  read  over  his  last 
sweet  letter.  Dora,  child,  be  sure  you  don't 
make  any  blunders  to  spoil  the  effect.  I  want 
the  ceremony  to  produce  the  greatest  sensation 
of  anything  that  has  ever  transferred  in  Penny- 
ville.  I  hope  Mr.  Ellis  has  studied  his  part' 
thoroughly.  If  they  get  here  in  season,  we 
must  practise  a  little  before  we  start  to 
church. 

A  quarter  to  eight,  and  no  signs  of  his  arrival ! 
O  Adonis !  I  hope,  I  trust  no  accident  has  oc 
curred.  I  feel  that  I  could  not  bear  it,  after 
being  wrought  up  to  such  a  state  of  expectancy. 

Only  five  minutes  to  the  time  !  Everybody 
in  the  church,  and  waiting — I  can  see  them  in 
my  mind's  eye — and  no  bridegroom  yet.  The 
stage  must  be  upset,  or  some  terrible  accident. 
Pour  me  out  a  glass  of  that  wine,  Dora,  and  then 
throw  your  shawl  around  and  go  and  inquire  if 
there's  any  news  of  the  coach.  You  must !  I 
shall  expire  if  this  suspension  continues  much 


MISS    SLIMMENS'S   WINDOW.  149 

longer.  My  curls,  too,  are  beginning  to  come 
out,  and  it's  blowing  up,  as  if  it  was  going  to 
rain.  What  will  the  folks  think  to  be  kept  wait 
ing  in  this  style  !  I've  a  presentiment  of  some 
awful  occurrence.  There !  thank  goodness !  that's 
the  gate  !  they're  coming  !  Open  the  door,  child, 
while  I  compose  myself. 

Oh,  Mr.  Ellis,  is  that  you!  "Where  is  he? 
where's  Mr.  de  Mountfort?  has  the  stage  ar 
rived  ?  is  he  coming  ?  What  keeps  him  ?  Per 
haps  it's  to  change  his  clothes,  and  the  coach 
was  later  than  usual.  Oh,  Lord  'a-mercy ! 
What  do  you  say,  John  ?  "  The  stage  came  in 
an  hour  ago,  and  he  wasn't  in  it!"  Wasn't  in  it! 
Don't  tell  me  so,  don't !  He's  sick — he's  dead — 
he's  false  !  No  !  no !  he  isn't  false — never !  I 
will  not  say  it ;  I  will  not  think  it ;  he's  dead !  I 
know  he  is.  O  dear  me !  oh-h  ! 

Take  away  the  camphire  !  I  don't  want  it ;  he 
may  come  yet,  by  private  conveyance.  Do  you 
think  I'm  going  into  church  to  be  married  smell 
ing  of  camphire  ?  How  late  has  it  got  to  be  ? 
Half-past  eight !  O  dear  !  what  will  the  congre 
gation  think  ?  Mehitable  Green  is  beginning  to 
turn  up  her  nose,  I  know  she  is !  I  can't  bear  it ; 
I  can't  bear  it,  I  say !  anything  but  that — oh-h ! 


150 

Oh,  Mr.  Ellis,  won't  you  go  to  the  telegraph 
office  and  see  if  there  isn't  a  message  for  me  ?  I 
shall  expire  long  before  morning,  if  I  don't  hear 
from  him  to-night.  There's  a  knock  ! 

Only  the  post-boy  !  but  he's  got  a  letter ;  let 
me  see  it.  "  Boston  !" 

John  Ellis,  go  to  the  meeting-house  and  tell 
the  minister  and  the  people  that  the  marriage  is 
postponed — that  Mr.  de  Mountfort  is  very  sick, 
and  couldn't  get  here  to  keep  his  appointment. 
Tell  them  to  disperse ;  and  mind,  don't,  yon  come 
"Back  here  to-night  to  see  Dora,  nor  for  no  other 
reason.  I'm  sick  myself !  and  I  shan't  see  any 
human  being  except  Dora  this  night,  not  even 
the  minister.  He  needn't  come ;  nobody  needn't 
come;  the  door'll  be  locked. 

"Now  we're  alone,  I'll  read  the  letter  to  you, 
Dora,  seeing  you've  known  all  about  the  rest  of 
the  matter,  and  I  must  tell  somebody ',  or  burst. 
Listen,  and  learn  what  confidence  to  repose  in 
man: 

"  DEAR  OLD  GIRL  :  Don't  fret  yourself  looking 
for  me,  as  I'm  seriously  afraid  I  shall  not  arrive ; 
in  fact,  I'm  prevented  by  positive  engagements. 
I  drew  the  seven  hundred  dollars — all  right ! 


151 

much  obliged.  After  paying  up  my  college 
scrapes  ai.d  settling  matters  around  here,  I  find 
I've  a  cool  four  hundred  left,  with  which  to  take 
a  pleasure-trip  to4he  South.  In  short,  I'm  about 
starting,  and  shall  be  out  of  hearing  distance  be 
fore  you  receive  this.  Don't  tell  anybody  what 
a  fool  you've  been ;  they  might  laugh  at  you. 
You  were  old  enough  to  know  better ;  but  I 
won't  reproach  you. 

"  Ever  your  admiring, 

"  ADONIS  DE  MOUNTFORT." 

• 

What  do  you  think  of  that,  Dora  Adams  ?  "  A 
heartless  villain  !"  Ha !  ha !  You  think  so,  do 
you !  Well,  you  needn't  cry,  and  you  needn't 
pity  me.  Mehitable  Green  will  pity  me,  I  sup 
pose.  That  fellow  has  told  the  truth  for  once  in 
his  life ;  I  was  too  old  to  make  such  a  fool  of 
myself.  I  don't  want  pity.  There !  do  you  see 
that  bridal-veil  ?  I've  stamped  on  it,  and  I've 
twisted  them  orange  flowers  into  fire-kindlings. 
!N"o,  I  ain't  going  to  cry,  and  I  ain't  going  to 
faint,  and  I  ain't  going  to  hurt  myself ;  I'm  too 
awful  mad  !  Seven  hundred  dollars  of  my  hard- 
earned  savings  gone,  and  to  such  a  wretch  !  I'll 
kill  him,  if  I  have  to  follow  him  to  the  ends  of 


152 


the  earth,  I'll  kill  him  !  Seven  hundred  dollars, 
and  to  send  rue  such  a  letter  !  "Dear  old  girl!" 
Seven  hundred  in  good,  hard  money  gone  for 
ever  ;  and  that  isn't  the  worst  of  it — that  isn't 
the  worst  of  it !  I  shall  be  a  laughing-stock  to 
the  whole  of  Pennyville.  I  shall  never  dare  to 
show  my  face  again.  That  Mehitable  Green 
will  be  in  her  elements.  Oh,  how  I  hate  her ! 
how  I  hate  the  whole  set !  how  I  hate  the  whole 
world  !  I'll  follow  him  ;  I'll  track  him  to  the 
other  side  of  the  earth  !  Seven  hundred  dollars, 
and  all  these  wedding-clothes,  and  to  be  made  a 
laughing-stock  !  He  !  he !  boo-hoo  !  I've  got 
the  hysterics,  I  know,  but  I  won't  have  'em ;  I'm 
too  mad. 

Unhook  this  dress !  tear  it  off  of  me  !  I  can't 
bear  the  sight  of  it.  Take  it,  and  hang  it  up  in 
the  closet,  and  hang  another  one  over  it.  And 
look  here,  Dora  Adams,  if  ever  you  breathe  a 
word  about  this  affair,  so  that  it  gets  out  about 
my  losing  the  money  and  all  that,  I'll  never 
forgive  you.  I  sent  John  to  tell  'em  Mr.  de 
Mountfort  was  sick,  and  I  mean  they  shall 
believe  it.  I  don't  know  but  I  shall  purtend 
he's  dead,  and  go  into  mourning.  I'd  rather  lose 
the  other  three  hundred,  and  be  thrown  back  on 


MISS    SLIMMENS  S    WINDOW. 


153 


my  own  resources  and  my  shop  and  stock  in 
trade,  than  have  it  get  to  Mehitable  Green's  ears 
the  way  I  was  taken  in.  That's  the  worst  of  all ; 
I  never  could  stand  it.  I'd  rather  pull  up  stakes, 


take  down  my  sign,  bar  up  my  window,  and  go 
to  some  other  town,  and  set  up  in  business  over 
again. 

Look  out,  Dora,  and  see  if  the  church  is  all 

7* 


dark.  Are  the  lights  all  out,  and  the  people 
gone  away  ?  It's  well  I'm  mad  as  I  be,  or  I 
should  go  raving  distracted  ;  I  should  be  in  the 
lunatic  asylum  by  to-morrow  evening.  It's  just 
spunk  that  keeps  me  from  it.  There !  I've 
kicked  one  of  my  white  satin  slippers  into  the 
fire.  You  needn't  pick  it  out ;  let  it  burn ;  it 
does  me  good  to  see  it.  If  I  had  Adonis  de 
Mountfort  in  the  same  place,  with  a  red-hot 
poker  to  hold  him  down  with,  wouldn't  I  laugh  ? 
"  Dear  old  girl,"  indeed !  "  Old  enough  to 
know  better " — ha !  ha  !  Dora  Adams,  go 
to  bed ! 

[The  sign  still  creaks,  with  an  ancient  and 
wheezy  and  very  doleful  sound,  in  front  of  the 
window.  We  had  hoped  to  be  able  to  announce 
that  the  sweet  face  of  the  youthful  Dora  was  the 
one  which  now  beamed  forth  from  that  window 
upon  the  inhabitants  of  Penny  ville;  but  alas! 
hers  is  still  in  the  background,  and,  we  are 
afraid,  somewhat  depressed  by  scoldings  more 
jrequeiit  and  fault-findings  more  severe  than 
ever.  A  certain  nose  has  grown  sharper,  a 
certain  chin  more  peaked,  a  certain  pair  of 
cheeks  more  bloomingly  red  than  ever,  and  a 


155 

certain  pair  of  eyes  keep  more  vigilant  watch 
out  of  Miss  Slimmens's  window.  Poor  woman ! 
We  have  reason,  from  finding  one  of  her  stray 
poetic  gems  in  a  neglected  corner,  to  believe 
that  in  the  society  of  the  muses  she  now  finds 
her  principal  consolation — that,  in  short,  she  is 
given  to 

"  Learn  in  suffering  and  to  teach  in  song." 

The  poem  we  refer  to  seems  to  us  to  bear  a 
faint  resemblance  to  Hood's  "  Song  of  the 
Shirt;"  but  as  the  fair  authoress  would  doubt 
less  resent  the  idea,  we  will  not  mention  it  to 
the  public.  It  is  called 

THE    SONG    OF    THE    HAT. 

BY   ALVIRA   s*******. 

WITH  ringlets  many  and  long, 

"With  cheeks  like  roses  red, 
A  milliner  sat  in  her  little  shop, 

Plying  her  needle  and  thread. 
Stitch!  stitch!  stitch! 

On  Tuscan,  Leghorn,  and  flat — 
And  still,  with  a  voice  of  wonderful  pitch, 

She  sang  the  SONG  OF  THE  HAT. 

Work !  work  !  work  ! 

Bleaching  and  trimming  alone — 
Work  !  work !  work ! 

For  others,  and  not  your  own ! 


156  MISS   SLIMMENS'S  WINDOW. 

It's  ohy-io  be  a  slave 

Along  with  the  barbarous  Turk, 
Where  part  of  a  husband  we  all  might  have, 

If  this  be  Christian  work ! 

Wish!  wish!  wish! 

Till  the  brain  begins  to  swim — 
Wish!  wish!  wish! 

Yet  never  be  asked  by  him  ! 
Ribbon,  and  silk,  and  lace, 

Lace,  and  ribbon,  and  silk — 
Yet  still  keep  on  a  smiling  face, 

And  a  look  as  meek  as  milk  ! 

0  men,  with  children  dear  ! 

0  widowers  without  wives 
Forget  the  woman  that's  in  her  grave, 

And  take  the  one  that  survives! 
Bleach!  bleach!  bleach! 

While  $our  darlings  play  in  the  dirt, 
When  I  ought  to  be  making  one  a  frock, 

And  another  one  a  shirt ! 

a 
But  why  do  I  talk  of  frocks, 

Or  little  ones  playing  alone  ? 
I've  looked  on  them  with  such  longing  eyes 

They  almost  seem  my  own — 
They  almost  seem  my  own, 

Because  I  have  not  any — 
Good  gracious !  that  husbands  should  be  so  few, 

And  the  women  who  want  them,  so  many ! 


157 


Wish!  wish!  wish! 

And  try  as  hard  as  I  can ! 
And  what  do  I  wish  for  ?     A  bed  of  straw, 

A  crust  of  bread,  and  a  man. 
I've  a  roof  and  a  carpeted  floor, 
.  Tables,  and  dishes,  and  chairs — 
But  never  a  husband  home  to  tea, 

Or  a  husband's  step  on  the  stairs. 

Wish !  wish !  wish ! 

Yet  never  to  dare  to  speak — 
Wish!  wish!  wish! 

From  weary  week  to  week  I 
Kibbon,  and  silk,  and  lace, 

Lace,  and  ribbon,  and  silk — 
Yet  still  to  keep  on  a  smiling  face, 

And  a  look  as  meek  as  milk  ! 

Bleach !  bleach  !  bleach  ! 

In  the  dull  December  light ; 
And  bleach  !  bleach !  bleach ! 

When  the  weather-  is  warm  and  bright 
When  all  around  the  yard 

The  clucking  chickens  run, 
As  if  to  show  me  their  numerous  brood, 

And  twit  me  with  having  none  ! 

Oh,  but  to  breathe  the  breath 

That  comes  through  a  soft  moustache ! 
To  lean  my  head  on  a  loving  breast, 

Without  being  considered  rash  ! 


158 


For  only  one  short  hour 

To  feel  as  the  woman  feels 
"Who  has  not  only  a  house  of  her  own, 

But  a  man  to  come  to  his  meals ! 

Oh,  but  for  one  short  year 

To  be  some  good  man's  wife, 
Even  if  I  were  left  a  widow 

All  the  rest  of  my  life. 
A  little  weeping  would  ease  my  heart, 

But  in  their  briny  bed 
My  tears  must  stop,  for  every  drop 

Is  fatal  to  "  carmine  red." 

With  a  heart  that  was  tired  to  death    . 

Of  being  so  old  a  maid, 
A  milliner  sat  in  her  little  shop, 

Following  her  dreary  trade. 
Stitch!  stitch!  stitch! 

On  Tuscan,  Leghorn,  and  flat, 
And  still  with  a  voice  of  wonderful  pitch 
(Would  that  its  tones  might  reach  some  rich 
Young  man,  it  scarcely  matters  which), 

She  sang  the  SONG  OF  THE  HAT  !] 


THE    TALLOW    FAMILY 

IN  AMEEICA. 


151) 


THE 


TALLOW  FAMILY  IN  AMERICA. 


LETTEE  FIEST. 

NIAGARA  FALLS,  June,  185 — , 

DEAR  MIRANDA: 

HEEE  we  are  at  Niagara,  Niagara  Falls,  as, 
may  be,  you  have  read  of,  as  well  as  heard 
us  all  talk  so  much  about  when  we  left  England. 
We've  now  been  here  five  whole  days,  and  seen 
all  the  sights,  and  many  other  things,  of  which 
I,  may  be,  shall  tell  you  some  time.  To-morrow, 

*  The  reader  need  not  be  apprised  that  all  the  sayings  of  the 
family  herein  recorded  are  copiously  interlarded  with  the  aspi 
rate,  and  marked  by  its  omissions,  so  peculiar  to  a  class  of 
English  people.  Therefore,  for  American,  read  Hamerican, 
for  hotel,  read  'ofeJ,  etc.,  etc. 

161 


162  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY    IN    AMERICA. 

we  start  for  Newport,  in  the  State  of  Rhode 
Island,  I  think  it  is.  They  say  it  is  a  love  of  a 
place  by  the  sea-side — that  means  the  ocean  here 
— where  all  the  sprack  young  men  of  America 
go  every  summer  to  keep  cool  by  bathing  all  day 
in  the  surf,  and  by  drinking  cobblers  at  night, 
and  waltzing  and  moonlight  musings  with  the 
beautiful  ladies.  Oh,  dear,  what  nice  times  they 
must  have  sitting  up  to  their  chins  in  water, 
having  servants  to  fetch  them  the  daily  papers, 
and  wine,  and  all  that !  I  do  wish  it  was  d  la 
mode  for  us  Englishwomen.  Don't  understan4 
me  as  saying  that  the  aristocratic  people  here 
have  anything  to.  do  with  vulgar  shoemakers. 
"  Cobblers,"  is  a  drink  these  funny  people  make 
out  of  sherry,  ice,  lemon  and  straws.  When  we 
get  there,  I  will  write  you  all  about  it. 

I  wish  your  father  hadn't  been  so  sting^,  and 
had  let  you  come  along  with  us  in  our  travels ; 
for  (between  you  and  me,  my  dear  Handa)  there's 
a  good  deal  to  be  seen,  though  we  don't  let  the 
people  we  meet  know  that  we  think  so ;  else,  as 
ma  says,  these  Americans  are  so  presumptuous 
they  might  get  an  idea  that  the  English  are  not 
their  superiors.  You  and  I,  my  pet,  don't  care 
about  such  things,  for  we  are  not  so  wise  as  those 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  163 

as  have  seen  much  of  society,  like  ma,  since  she 
moved  up  from  Pud-angles  to  Piccadilly.  It  is 
best,  I  suppose,  to  be  as  haughty  and  grand  as 
possible  to  impress  them  with  the  sense  that,  if 
we  do  not  belong  to  the  nobility,  we've  seen  peo 
ple  as  do.  I  am  only  mortified  that  we  must  be 
disgraced,  away  from  home,  by  being  classed  as 
commons.  It  is  an  outrageous  word,  I  say,  and 
ought  to  be  changed  into  something  less  vulgar. 
TJiat  would  serve  to  give  us  standing  away  from 
home.  Who  could  guess,  from  the  way  we 
carry  our  heads  here,  that  pa  is  a  dock  chandler  ? 
Not  one  American.  And,  if  we  could  only  be 
rid  of  being  classed  as  "  commons,"  we  should 
have  no  bounds  placed  to  the  position  we  could 
assume.  But  we  do  well,  my  dear.  To  hear  ma 
talk,  these  people  must  all  think  she  is  a  familiar 
in  "West  End ;  that  Lord  Somers  and  Sir  John 
Winter  are  her  intimates ;  and  she  has,  in  several 
instances,  hinted  plainly  that  the  queen's  draw 
ing-room  is  open  to  her  on  all  state  occasions. 
Oh,  ma  is  true  Englishwoman  in  carrying  her 
head  so  high,  I  tell  you,  my  dear  !  You  ought 
to  be  along  with  us  to  learn  how  to  travel. 

When  we  arrived  in  New  York,  I  thought  it 
was  Liverpool  or  Leeds,  it  was  so  big.     Who 


164  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

would  have  thought  these  people  could  have 
such  big  towns  ?  But  they  never  can  come  up 
to  London ;  so  we  shall  always  be  above  them 
in  that  respect.  After  getting  off  ship,  our  pile 
of  luggage  gave  us  much  trouble.  The  "  run 
ners  "  was  so  thick  just  like  London,  for  all  the 
world  ;  but  they  couldn't  cry,  "  Carriage,  sir  1" 
"  Cab,  sir  1"  "  Coach  sir !"  with  half  the  lungs 
of  the  English  coachee.  Pa  grumbled  a  good 
deal  at  ma's  seven  band  and  hat-boxes,  nine 
trunks  and  bags,  and  at  my  own  separate  set. 
He  said  "  he  didn't  know  why  we  two  women 
couldn't  've  put  our  clothes  together,  and  in  two 
or  three  trunks."  Oh,  you  ought  to  ha'  seen 
liow  ma  silenced  him  with  a  look  of  offended 
dignity  !  .  She  only  replied  :  "  Mr.  Tallow,  show 
us  the  coach !"  Had  he  ha'  known  that  four  of 
ma's  trunks  and  two  of  mine  were  lull  of  old 
clothes  for  effect,  he  would  have  blowed  us. 

"We  took  coach  for  the  Saint  Nicholas  Hotel, 
and  drove  up  through  Broadway,  the  most 
fashionable  street  in  the  country.  It  was  much 
like  London,  though  not  so  fine,  because  the 
houses  were  not  so  old,  nor,  as  the  French 
teacher  used  to  say,  so  dassique.  But,  I  do 
declare,  I  saw  things  in  the  show-windows  as  fine 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN    AMERICA.  165 

as  anything  in  London.  This  is  between  us,  of 
course,  for  I  would  not  tell  anybody  so  here.  I 
was  astonished  when  ceachee  called  out  "  Saint 
Nicholas !"  I  thought  he  had  made  some  mis 
take,  and,  thinking  us  a  noble  family,  had  dri 
ven  us  to  some  palace,  it  was  so  fine.  I  told 
mother  so  in  ail  under-tone ;  but  she  replied : 
"  Hush,  child  !  how  foolish  you  are !  There  are 
no  dukes  nor  lords  in  this  country.  This  is  a 
hotel  for  people  of  quality."  So  it  was.  "We 
passed  up  a  flight  of  marble  steps  to  the  second 
floor,  where  a  perfect  sea  of  rooms,  and  halls, 
and  stairways,  and  servants,  and  people  met  our 
gaze.  Mother  walked  like  a  queen  through  that 
assembly ;  but,  really,  nobody  seemed  to  notice 
us,  though  I  dare  not  tell  mother  so.  We  were 
ushered  into  a  splendid  suite  of  rooms,  magnifi 
cent  as  the  drawing-room  at  Windsor,  as  I  have 
heard  tell  of ;  and  I  said  to  ma  :  "  Is  this  where 
we  are  to  sleep  !"  At  this  she  showed  displea 
sure  by  a  slight  frown ;  and  yet  I  could  see  she 
was  very  much  pleased.  Indeed,  she  sunk  down 
into  a  rich  damask  rolling-chair,  and  whispered 
tome:  "Did  you  ever,  Rosa  Matilda  Tallow! 
For  all  the  world,  it's  like  the  Earl  of  Carlisle's 
seat,  which  you  well  remember,  the  steward, 


166  THE  TALLOW  FAMILY   IN  AMEEICA. 

with  whom  pa  had  some  business,  allowed  us  to 
see  while  the  family  were  on  the  Continent. 
Yes,  indeed ;  it's  more  like  great  than  that,  for 
here  are  more  big  glasses,  and  rich  hangings, 
and  none  of  those  smoky-looking  pictures  which 
everybody  talks  about  as  "  Old  Masters'.'  Well, 
I  never !  But  don't  you  let  on" 

"With  this,  she  threw  herself  back  in  the  chair, 
for  all  the  world  like  I've  heard  tell  of  Lady 
Hastings,  only  that,  as  ma  weighs  over  fifteen 
stone,  she  can't  look  so  graceful,  particularly 
when  she  is  warm,  and  breathes  loud. 

"  Trust  Eosa  Matilda  Tallow  for  that?  said  I, 
resolved  to  begin  aright,  and  not  to  impair  our 
standing  the  least  by  being  astonished  at  any 
thing,  nor  making  familiar  with  any  one  but  the 
most  elegant  people.  And,  to  show  my  self-reli 
ance  and  ability  to  act  my  part  well,  I  looked 
closely  at  a  sweet  young  girl  who  was  conversing 
pleasantly  with  an  elderly  gentleman  on  "  her 
book."  She  finally  observed  my  close  attention, 
and  turned  toward  me,  when  1  lifted  my  eyebrows 
in  my  super-silliest  manner,  and,  with  a  contemp 
tuous  look,  showed  her  my  back.  I  saw  that  ma 
was  pleased. 

Pa  didn't  need  any  lessons,  evidently.     He 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEEICA.  167 

was  walking  up  and  down  the  soft  Turkey  car 
pet,  with  a  tread  like  an  emperor,  a  dark  frown 
upon  his  face,  his  lips  drawn  down,  his  arms 
folded,  and  hauteur,  as  Monsieur  De  Trop  used  to 
say,  in  his  whole  manner.  He  wanted  some 
thing  'better  than  that,  his  very  look  showed. 

A  genteel-looking  person  came,  finally,  to  con 
duct  us  to  our  rooms.  He  apologized  for  delay 
ing  us  so  long,  saying  the  house  was  very  full, 
and  it  was  with  difficulty  the  clerk  could  pro 
perly  accommodate  the  Arabia's  passengers.  He 
gave  us  apartments  on  the  third  floor ;  and  they 
were,  certainly,  fit  for  a  duchess — such  damask, 
and  lace,  and  gilt,  and  mirrors,  and  rosewood 
furniture,  and  sweet  paintings  on  the  wall !  ah ! 
I  was  speechless  with  admiration.  What  was 
my  astonishment,  then,  to  hear  ma  demand  lof 
tily  of  the  attendant  "if  there  were  no  better 
accommodations  than  this  /"  He  looked  first 
surprised,  and  then  as  if  he  would  swizzle  right 
out  in  a  laugh ;  but  he  didn't,  and  answered, 
humbly,  there  were  not,  "  unless  we  wished  to 
occupy  the  bridal  suite  of  chambers,  which  were 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  (thirty  pounds  ster 
ling)  per  day. 

Ma  almost  screamed  out  when  she  heard  of 


168  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN    AMERICA. 

such  prices  ;  but  she  kept  her  face,  and  replied, 
politely,  though  with  a  grand  air  still,  that 
"  these  would  do,  she  supposed,  as  it  was  their 
purpose  to  remain  only  long  enough  to  see  New 


York  two  or  three  days  at  most,  when  they 
should  proceed  immediately  to  the  country  and 
the  Falls." 

I  thought  the  fellow  was  a  cunning  one  by  the 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN  AMEEICA.  169 

way  lie  looked  from  liis  eyes ;  but  lie  said  no 
thing,  and  left  the  rooms. 

When  the  door  was  shut,  ma  fairly  gave  up 
with  astonishment.  "  Such  princely  things  all 
around  really  was  good  enough  for  the  Princess 
Royal.  But  we  must  let  on  that  it  is  common 
place  with  us,"  said  she. 

Pa  moved  around  the  rooms  with  dignity,  his 
hands  behind  his  back,  after  the  manner  of  the 
old  duke  in  Kensington  Square,  whom  you 
remember,  dear  Mira,  we  once  happened  to  see. 
He  looked  delighted  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  be 
serious;  and  I  took  courage  to  say:  "Oh,  so 
nice !  Ain't  you  glad  we've  come,  pa  ?  Every 
body  will  think  we  are  Somervilles." 

It  was  quite  half  an  hour  ere  we  could  do  any 
thing  but  wonder  and  examine ;  and  it  is  true 
Miranda — but  don't  say  a  word,  for  the  world, 
about  it — that  there  were  things  there  which  we 
never  had  heard  of,  nor  knowed  the  use  of,  though 
ma  pretended  she  knew  all  about  it.  But,  when 
she  took  up  and  placed  on  the  table  what  I 
thought  must  1)6  a  foot-cushion,  and  called  it  "  an 
exquisite  cushion  for  her  jewels,"  I  guessed  she 
didn't  know  all  about  it. 

"We  finally  thought  of  dinner,  and  proceeded 


170  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN"   AMERICA. 

to  unpack.  The  six  trunks  of  old  clothes  for 
effect  we  had  stacked  up  in  the  hall,  but  the 
steward,  coming  along,  said  they  must  be  taken 
in,  and  so  pa  thought,  for,  said  he,  if  they  should 
be  stolen,  what  a  tight  we  should  be  in ! '  "We 
took  them  in,  but  placed  them  so  as  to  be  seen 
every  time  the  hall-door  was  opened.  What  to 
wear  at  dinner  was  now  the  question.  It  was 
evident,  from  what  we  had  seen  in  the  reception- 
rooms,  that  the  Americans  dressed  richly ;  and, 
as  we  must  outshine  them,  we  decided  upon  our 
best — ma  her  purple  velvet,  which  she  had  worn 
at  the  Lord  Mayor's  ball,  to  which  you  know  we 
were  invited  because  pa  paid  the  "  Times "  five 
pounds  to  announce  that  "  many  of  the  leading 
residents  of  the  Tenth  have  decided  upon  run 
ning  Tudor  Stuart  Tallow,  Esq.,  for  alderman  at 
the  coming  hustings."  It  was  now  the  last  of 
June,  you  know ;  and  the  purple  velvet  would 
be  very  warm  and  uncomfortable  for  ma ;  but 
she  concluded  upon  it  as  the  only  thing  that 
would  "  touch  the  right  spot,"  as  she  said,  mean 
ing  it  would  impress  the  people  with  our  dig 
nity. 

I  laid  out  a  White  muslin,  short  sleeves,  low  in 
the  neck,  with  pink  sash  and  pink  ribbons  and 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  171 

bow  for  my  hair,  as  most  becoming  a  very  young 
lady,  for  you  should  know,  my  dear,  that  I  in 
tend  to  pass  here  for  seventeen,  if  pa  does  insist 
that  I  look  fully  my  age.  I  wore  no  jewels  to 
heighten  the  contrast  with  ma,  who  had  on  the 
full  set  of  "  diamonds,"  she  calls  'em ;  though,  if 
these  people  knew  anything,  they  would  see  they 
were  no  such  thing. 

At  five  o'clock,  we  were  summoned  for  dinner. 
We  wTere  waiting,  but  decided*  to  hold  a  little 
longer,  that  the  table  cPJiote,  as  you  know  it  is 
called,  should  be  well  filled.  Pa  grumbled,  for 
he  said  he  was  confounded  hungry  for  a  fresh 
chop  and  porter.  "Well,  we  finally  started,  I 
leaning  on  ma's  arm,  that  her  corpulency  might 
set  off  my  slender  figure  to  the  best  advantage, 
though  I  dare  not  tell  her  so,  for  she  declares  she 
is  gracefully  formed.  But  what  a  disappoint 
ment  awaited  us  !  The  people  at  this  table  were 
all  dressed  quite  ordinary,  with  travelling-dresses 
on,  shawls  on  their  arms,  and  some  with  hats  on. 
So  busy  were  they  eating  that  they  did  not  as 
much  as  look  wonderingly  at  us,  but  kept  on  eat 
ing  and  talking.  Ma's  face  grew  as  red  as  her 
gown ;  but  1  carried  a  stiff  head,  I  tell  you,  and 
taught  her  dignity.  We  had  seats  near  the  head 


172  THE  TALLOW  FAMILY  IN  AMEKICA. 

of  one  of  the  tables ;  but  it  appears  that  there  is 
no  choice  of  seats  here  ;  one  is  just  as  respecta 
ble  as  another.  Queer,  ain't  it  ? 

Our  servant  was  a  real  cunning-looking  fellow ; 
and  I  wanted  to  ask  him  his  name ;  but  I  saw  it 
wouldn't  do ;  it  might  seem  too  familiar-like. 
He  placed  strips  of  paper  on  our  plates.  Ma  whis 
pered  :  "  Now  come  the  programmes  ?"  I  soon 
saw  it  was  a  list  of  everything  they  had  to  eat, 
and  told  pa  he  m*ist  order.  He  asked  for  chops, 
sandwich,  and  porter.  "  Soups  first,"  said  the 
servant ;  "  mock-turtle,  d  la  mode,  bird's  nest, 
alligator" —  Here  ma  cried,  "Heavens!"  I 
saw  she  was  frightened,  and  so  said,  "  dla  mode, 
of  course!"  with  considerable  emphasis.  We 
were  served,  and  then  ordered  all  kinds  of  dishes. 
You  ought  to  have  seen  pa  eat.  He  took  veal- 
pie,  and  roast  beef,  and  lamb,  and  oyster  dress 
ing,  and  celery,  and  porter ;  and  ma  did  almost  the 
same  thing  when  she  saw  that  nobody  noticed  us. 

I  was  seated  next  to  a  very  agreeable  young 
man,  and  was,  of  course,  nice  about  what  I  eat. 
I  was  hungry,  but  thought  it  would  look  a  little 
common  to  eat  much.  The  young  gentleman 
was  kind  to  me,  helped  me  to  celery  and  salt,  and 
finally  entered  into  conversation  writh  me  in  such 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  173 

a  polite  manner  I  knew  lie  was  a  person  of  qua 
lity.  He  informed  me  that  "  everybody  that  was 
anybody  was  gone  to  the  watering-places — that 
these  people  at  table  were  on  their  way  there,  as 
I  would  perceive  by  their  travelling  habiliments 
— that  no  one  stayed  long  in  ISTew  York  in  the 
warm  season,  for  measles  were  so  bad."  "What's 
that  ?"  said  ma.  I  whispered  to  her  what  he  had 
said.  "  Heavens  !"  she  exclaimed ;  "  we  must 
out  of  this,  Tallow,"  but  kept  on  eating,  so 
that  the  nice  young  man  and  I  had  a  nice  time 
for  cosseting.  He  said  that  he  had  spent  the  first 
five  days  of  the  watering-season,  for  several 
years,  at  Niagara  Falls,  and  was  now  on  his  way 
there.  I  declare  to  you — in  confidence,  of  course, 
my  dear — that  it  almost  made  me  laugh  out  for 
joy  when  I  heard  this.  Oh,  it  would  be  so  nice 
to  have  the  society  of  such  a  man  all  the  way 
there !  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  have  admired 
him  so  much,  since  Lord  Whipper  Littleton 
dashed  by  our  hired  coach,  one  day,  in  Hyde 
Park,  on  his  "  splendid  steed,"  as  you  know  all 
the  novels  say.  (By  the  way,  my  dear,  you  must 
read  the  novels,  for  it  so  enlarges  your  ideas,  and 
gives  you  so  much  to  talk  about  to  educated  peo 
ple,  like  the  young  man  I  am  speaking  of.) 


174  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEEICA. 

"  You  are  en  route  for  the  Falls,  of  course," 
said  he.  "  Certainly,"  I  replied.  "  I  shall  be 
most  happy  to  introduce  you  to  the  wonder  of  all 
wonders,"  said  he.  "It  needs  an  interpreter,  for 
its  grand  harmonies  are  overpowering  to  the  un 
initiated." 

Oh !  shall  I  confess  to  you,  my  dear  Mira,  how 
my  heart  throbbed  at  this  exclamation !  Who 
could  have  said  this  but  a  poet,  a  "  living  soul 
of  fire,"  as  you  know  Shelley  has  it  ?  Well  it 
was  that  ma  was  so  absorbed  in  her  dish  of  savo 
ries,  or  else  she  might  have  drawn  a  straight 
conclusion  that  I  was  "  struck."  "Well,  I  listened' 
to  his  conversation  without  reply,  so  completely 
rapt  in  admiration,  until  he  asked  me  about  the 
scenery  of  Scotland,  Wales,  the  Hebrides,  the 
Orkneys,  and  Ireland.  Shame  on  me !  I  had 
never  been  to  these  places,  and  really  did  not 
know  where  the  Orkneys  were  ;  but,  of  course, 
it  would  not  do  to  confess  my  ignorance,  so  I 
replied  readily  to  his  questions,  telling  a  straight 
story  apparently.  When  he  asked  of  the  Thames 
and  London,  oh,  how  relieved  I  was !  for  of  Lon 
don  you  know  I  am  aufait,  as  Monsieur  De  Trop 
used  to  say.  When  pa  got  that  coachman  in 
debt  to  him,  it  was  a  lucky  day  for  the  Tallows, 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEKIOA.  175 

I  tell  you  ;  for  the  fellow  had  to  carry  us  around 
town  for  three  whole  days  ;  and  we  saw  every 
thing  in  the  city,  I  believe.  Now,  I  can  talk 
amazingly  of  London,  and  so  can  ma.  My  dear 
Mira,  do  try  and  get  your  pa  to  get  some  coachee 
in  debt  to  him,  so  that  you  can  travel  over  the 
city,  for  I  tell  you  it  never  will  do  for  you  to  go 
abroad,  and  not  be  able  to  talk  like  a  fillip  about 
"West  End,  Hyde  Park,  Piccadilly,  Parliament 
Row,  Gravesend,  Old  Lion,  and  all. 

I  told  the  lovely  young  man  that  the  Thames 
was  the  largest  river  in  the  world ;  that  its  pa 
laces,  and  bridges,  and  barges  were  unequalled. 
He  said  yes,  it  was  the  original  of  that  wonder 
ful  thing  by  Coleridge : 

"  In  Xanadu  did  Kubleh  Khan 

A  stately  pleasure  dome  decree, 
Where  Alph,  the  sacred  river,  ran 
Through  bridges  measureless  to  man, 
Down  to  a  sunless  sea." 

I  smiled,  and  said,  "  Oh,  yes,  that  Coal-ridge 
is  near  the  Thames,  and  is  a  wonderful  thing  !" 
Wan't  that  well  done  for  me  ?  I  now  talked  of 
Brighton  as  the  only  sea-bath  resort  worthy  of 
any  notice  in  Europe.  He  said,  "  Yes ;  but  that 
the  Bay  of  Naples  is  pretty  fair,  and  the  Bay  of 


176  THE  TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEKICA. 

Bomarsund  good,  but  not  equal  to  Brighton,  of 
course."  Don't  you  see  how  lie  lias  travelled  in 
Europe  ? 

When  ma  heard  the  name  of  Brighton  men 
tioned,  she  stopped  eating  to  say,  "  It  was  at 
Brighton,  you  know,  my  love,  Rosa  Matilda, 
that  Lord  Frederick  Duncy  was  so  attentive  to 
you.  His  passion  for  handsome  curls  is  cele 
brated." 

What  a  ma,  thus  to  do  the  thing  for  me  !  Oh, 
I  know  I  blushed  amazingly  at  this!  but  he 
nearly  startled  my  wits  by  saying :  "  Lord  Frede 
rick  has  good  taste,  and  of  course  would  admire 
your  daughter's  red  hair."  (Red  hair !  The 
brute !  I  was  tempted  to  say.  But  he's  evidently 
been  in  England,  and  knows  all  the  nobility  ;  so 
I  must  be  pleased.)  "  I've  no  recollection  of  ever 
hearing  him  refer  to  Miss  Tallow,  I  think,"  he 
continued.  ' "  Gracious !"  exclaimed  ma,  dropping 
her  silver  fork,  with  a  loud  ring,  upon  her  plate. 
"  You  don't  say  !"  said  pa ;  "  acquainted  with 
Lord  Duncy !  My  boy,  I'm  in  with  you  for  a 
bottle."  And  here  pa  shoved  aside  his  porter, 
ordered  a  bottle  of  sherry,  and  laughed  out  hear 
tily.  I  leaned  back  in  my  chair  to  allow  ma  the 
pleasure  of  a  right  good  look  at  the  young  gen* 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEEICA.  171 

tleman.  "  And  have  you  met  him  ?"  said  ma. 
"  I  knew  him  well  in  London,  and  spent  a  week 
at  his  country  house  five  years  ago,"  he  replied, 
quietly,  as  though  it  was  nothing  to  spend  a 
week  at  a  nobleman's.  "  Ah !"  said  ma,  "it  is 
ten  years  ago  that  Lord  Frederick  was  in  love, 
or  admiration,  rather,  with  Hosa  Matilda."  I 
nearly  fainted  at  ma's  ridiculous  mistake.  Ten 
years  ago,  and  I  now  only  seventeen !  I  trod 
upon  her  toe  to  remind  her  of  the  blunder ;  but 
she  didn't  take  at  all,  so  anxious  wras  she  to 
escape  being  caught  in  her  whopper  about  Lord 
Frederick.  She  groaned  aloud,  and  exclaimed  : 
"Heavens,  my  corns,  Rosa!"  I  expected,  of 
course,  to  see  the  young  gentleman  laugh  right 
out ;  but  he  was  as  solemn  as  the  Lord  Chancel 
lor,  and  apparently  thinking  of  the  post.  He 
did  not  hear  ma's  exclamation,  but  went  on  to 
ask  about  Prince  Albert,  and  the  queen,  and 
their  levees.  But,  when  we  found  that  the  young 
man  had  been  in  London,  and  associated  with 
the  nobility,  we  were  afraid  to  say  too  much. 
We  did  not  sit  much  longer  at  table,  for  it  was 
becoming  rather  dry ;  so  pa  said,  "  we'd  play 
quits."  Oh,  horror,  Miranda !  what  do  you  think 
happened  ?  As  we  arose  from  the  table,  the  servant 
8* 


178  THE  TALLOW  FAMILY  IN   AMEEICA. 

drew  back  our  chairs  ;  and  ma,  who  always  has 
to  make  two  or  three  efforts  before  she  can  fairly 
gain  her  feet,  had  eaten  so  much  that  it  was  now 
nearly  impossible  for  her  to  rise ;  and  the  care 
less  servant,  not  knowing  her  weakness,  drew 
away  her  chair  at  her  first  attempt  to  get  up,  and 
she  sank  back — heavens  ! — on  the  floor.  It  took 
pa,  and  Mr.  Noall — which  is  the  young  man's 
name,  we  learned — and  the  servant,  to  lift  her 
up  again.  She  was  as  purple  as  her  dress,  with 
rage ;  and  I  was  almost  sick  with  affright  and  mor 
tification.  I  gave  up  all  hopes  of  making  an 
impression,  and  saw  that  our  first  attempt  had 
proved  a  failure,  for  certainly  now  the  whole  ta 
ble  would  laugh  at  us  ;  but  pa  here  proved  him 
self  more  than  equal  to  the  emergency.  He  tore 
around  like  one  mad,  and  swore  terribly  at  the 
servant  for  his  carelessness,  and  threatened  to 
make  the  house  pay  dearly  for  such  an  outrage 
upon  persons  of  quality.  This  appeared  to  give 
us  much  consideration,  for  all  the  table  stopped 
eating,  and  noticed  us  particularly  as  we  passed 
out,  ma  on  the  arm  of  pa,  and  I — shall  I  say  it  ? 
— on  the  arm  of  Mr.  Noall,  who  seemed  all 
attention. 

"We  kept  our  room   after  that,   for  ma  was 


TSE  TALLOW   FAMILY  IN   AMERICA.  1Y9 

lame  ;  and  pa  said  lie  could  drink  his  porter  and 
eat  his  cheese  with  more  peace  than  at  table.  I 
did  not  like  this  proceeding,  but  made  free  to  go 
down  to  the  parlors,  where  I  met  Mr.  Noall 
several  times,  and  "  formed  his  permanent 
acquaintance,"  as  he  confessed.  Oh,  how  I  do 
thrill  all  over  at  the  thought  of  him !  Just  to 
think  that  that  grease- weigher  of  pa's  ever  should 
think  of  my  hand ! 

After  remaining  at  the  Saint  Nicholas  for 
nearly  three  days,  we  started  for  Albany,  I  think 
it  is  called,  on  the  Hudson  River.  Oh,  what  a 
fairy  boat !  It  was  named  after  our  great  Sir 
Isaac  Newton,  who  discovered  the  apple  falling 
from  the  tree,  and  thereby  explained  the  reason 
of  the  world's  being  hung  on  its  centre  at  Green 
wich  Hospital,  as  you've  heard  it  is.  Such 
fixings  I  never  dreamed  of,  nor  read  of.  It  was 
all  gold,  and  silver,  and  lace,  and  Turkey  car 
pets,  and  mirrors.  It  is  astonishing  how  these 
Americans  do  things.  I  declare  I  don't  know  if 
the  queen  dreams  of  the  way  these  people  are 
going  ahead !  When  I  get  home,  I  shall  try 
and  gain  admittance  to  her  just  to  warn  her  of 
the  true  state  of  things  here.  She  must  know 
it,  or  England  will've  much  to  "  hang  her  harp 


180  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

on  the  willow-trees  "  for.    There  !  ain't  that  well 
said  for  a  humble  woman  ? 

How  do  you  think  I  felt,  dear  Mira,  in  the 
midst  of  such  splendor,  and  Mr.  Noall  on  the 
same  boat  ?  My  emotions  were  as  tumultuous  as 
one  of  the  kettles  in  pa's  factory.  I  saw  myself 
reflected  all  around  me;  and  it  recalled  Mr. 
Moore's  Lally  Hook's  palace.  I  only  wanted 
Mr.  Noall's  arm  round  me  to  be  transported  to 
Peri.  I  know  the  crowd  of  elegant  passengers 
must've  read  something  inspiring  in  my  face, 
for  they  looked  wonderingly  at  me.  Ma  had  to 
call  me  several  times  before  I  could  come  back 
to  myself,  and  go  and  prepare  for  a  promenade 
on  deck.  Ma  "well  knew  Mr.  Noall  would 
come  and  ask  me  to  walk,"  she  said.  Has  she 
guessed  my  secret  ?  I  asked  my  heart.  It  said, 
in  loud  tones,  "No!"  I  dressed  in  my  rose- 
colored,  heavy  flounced  barege  with  pink  sash, 
and  cameo  pin  in  my  bosom.  Thus  dressed,  I 
stepped  into  the  cabin,  and"  really  surprised  all  the 
ladies  there.  They  were  dressed  quite  common, 
in  linen  travelling-dresses  and  very  common 
bonnets.  Soon  Mr.  ISToall  came  along.  As  he 
did  so,  he  bowed  rather  coldly  to  a  young  lady, 
who,  I  declare,  was  the  same  young  woman  I 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN  AMERICA.  181 

looked  at  so  super-silly  in  the  parlor  of  tlie  Saint 
Nicholas.  How  glad  I  was  that  I  had  so 
noticed  her !  for  it  was  plain  she  wa'n't  much 
from  the  way  Mr.  Noall  recognized  her.  She 
was  dressed  in  the  same  linen  travelling-dress 
she  had  on  then.  How  vulgar !  Pie  came 
along,  and,  bowing  very  low  to  me,  said  "  he 
hoped  I  was  gay  as  a  blackbird  in  a  crow's 
nest." 

"  As  a  nightingale,  you  mean,"  I  said. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  forgot — a  nightingale  in  England, 
and  the  blackbird  in  America,"  he  said.  "  Will 
you  not  nutter  on  deck,  awhile,  this  transcend 
ent  morning  ?"  "  Certainly,"  I  said  ;  and  forth 
with  we  went  out  upon  deck.  Oh,  such  delicious 
conversation  as  we  had !  It  now  all  comes  back 
to  me  like  a  thing  that  hasn't  happened,  because 
it  is  too  good  to  be  true. 

Almost  before  I  was  aware,  we  were  in  sight 
of  Albany.  I  then  had  to  resume  my  travelling 
suit,  for  we  were  to  take  the  first  train  to  the 
Falls.  All  the  passengers  lunched  on  the  boat ; 
but  I  was  too  happy  for  eating. 

At  Albany,  I  lost  sight  of  Mr.  Noall.  WQ 
knew  he  was  to  stop  at  the  International  Hotel, 
for  he  said  it  was  there  the  beauty  and  Creoles 


182  THE   TALLOW  FAMILY   IK   AMEEICA. 

gathered.  Creoles  means  a  young  ladj  with 
some  aboriginal  blood  of  Indian  and  French  in 
'em,  you  should  know.  So  we  resolved  to  go 
there.  Ma  was  better  of  her  lameness,  and 
talked  of  her  first  appearance  at  an  American 
watering-place  with  a  good  deal  of  humor.  She 
said  she  meant  to  dress  in  short  clothes  to 
clamber  around  at  the  Falls.  But  pa  said  :  "  No 
you  don't  with  me.  Long  clothes  and  dignity, 
short  clothes  and  street  gals,"  he  said,  with  a 
queer  wink  of  the  eye.  So  ma  said,  as  she 
expected  to  stick  to  him  like  a  piece  of  tallow, 
she  must  stick  to  long  skirts,  she  supposed. 
With  such  rich  sallies  of  humor  did  we  while 
along  the  time.  I  was  rather  quiet,  from  think 
ing  not  only  of  Mr.  E"oall,  but  of  the  Creoles  and 
of  what  I  was  to  wear.  I  scarcely  thought  of 
the  Falls. 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  Falls  at  last,"  said  pa. 
"  I  hope  we  shall  find  the  real  Barclay  here,  not 
that  villainous  hock  ale  we  had  to  guzzle  at 
Albany."  "  And  I  hope,"  said  ma,  "  that  we 
shall  have  for  dinner  a  brace  of  swans  and  a 
musk  ox,  for  I  am  so  fond  of  wild  game."  I 
only  hoped  Mr.  Nball  would  be  there ;  that  was 
all,  though  I  durst  not  say  it. 


THE   TALLOW  FAMILY   IN    AMEEICA.  183 

"  Marcy  me !  hear  it  thunder  !"  exclaimed  ma, 
as  we  took  seats  in  the  'bus.  "  "Where  is  onr 
baggage  ?  Oh,  coachee,  run  and  get  our  trunks 
• — seventeen  of  'em;  that's  all — and  six  band 
boxes  and  bags,"  said  ma  to  the  'bus  man. 
"  Your  gentleman  has  taken  his  checks  and  gone 
for  the  baggage,  ma'am,"  said  the  man.  "  Yes, 
but  hurry  him ;  it's  going  to  rain,"  cried  ma. 
"Bain  3  not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  the  man.  "  Why, 
it's  thundering  terribly !"  "  Oh,  that's  the  Falls 
roaring !"  said  coachee ;  and  sure  enough  it  was. 
But  I  was  perfectly  unconcerned;  something 
else  filled  my  bosom  than  the  Falls.  "What 
was  it?"  you  say.  Why,  it  was  the  Creoles, 
and  Mr.  IToall,  and  my  first  appearance,  of 
course. 

Just  then,  pa  came  rushing  up  to  the  'bus, 
and,  sticking  his  head  in,  said :  "  Oh,  Mrs. 
Tallow,  we  are  ruined !  Two  of  those  big  black 
trunks  is  broken  down,  and  robbed — nothing 
left  in  them  but  some  candle-boxes  with  my  card 
on  'em.  All  the  valuable  contents  gone !"  Ma 
did  not  move,  nor  appear  excited.  "  Why  don't 
you  say  something.  Mrs.  Tallow?"  cried  pa. 
"  Mr.  Tallow,"  said  ma,  "  don't  give  yourself  any 
more  trouble.  If  those  old  trunks  have  broken 


184:  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

down,  it  is  no  loss."  "  ~No  loss  ?  You  are 
crazy  !  I  tell  you  your  clothes  are  all  gone,  and 
nothing  left  but  some  candle-boxes  and  old 
bagging,"  said  pa.  "Just  what  I  put  in  7em" 
said  ma.  "  ISfow,  don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself, 
Mr.  Tallow,  but  get  in  here,  and  let  the  old 
trunks  go,"  put  in  ma.  Pa  only  said  "  Humph  !" 
and  seemed  to  be  struck  with  an  idea,  for  he 
soon  roared  with  laughter,  crying :  "  Oh,  you 
are  one  of  'em,  Mrs.  Tallow  !  one  of  'em,  I  say  ! 
You'll  do  to  travel ;  you  will.  Old  England 
against  the  milliners !"  With  that,  we  started 
for  the  hotel. 

The  International  is  not  so  big  nor  so  fine  as 
the  Saint  Nicholas.  The  rooms  are  smaller,  less 
genteelly  furnished,  and  up  in  the  fourth  story — 
at  least,  there  was  where  we  were  placed.  Pa 
got  mad  about  the  meanness  of  the  rooms — • 
nothing  but  ingrain  carpet  on  the  floor,  cottage 
beds,  lace  curtains,  and  sofas,  and  chairs,  and 
one  large  mirror.  Pa  said  he  wouldn't  stand 
that.  The  clerk  replied:  "That  or  nothing!" 
when  pa  called  him  up ;  and  so  we  had  to  put 
np  with  it. 

After  dressing,  ma  and  me  took  to  the  halls, 
which  were  very  long,  and  wide,  and  cool.  Ma 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  185 

was  dressed  in  her  black  satin,  bought,  you 
know,  at  the  sale  of  Mrs.  Snuffy's  effects.  I  had 
on  my  "barege,  only  with  blue  trimming  in  my 
hair,  and  no  sash  on.  We  cut  quite  a  stiff,  I  tell 
you ;  but  we  found  some  women  whose  dresses 
were  rich  enough  for  queens.  "Where  the 
Creoles  were,  we  could  not  tell ;  probably  on 
the  other  floors ;  so  down  we  went  to  see. 
"Whom  should  we  meet  but  Mr.  NoallJ  in  com 
pany  with  several  other  young  men,  gaily 
enjoying  the  time? 

"  Why,  Miss  Kosa  Matilda  Tallow  !  I  declare  ! 
And  Mrs.  Lolly  Jane  Tallow  !  How  do  you  do  ?" 
And  he  shook  hands  with  us  so  heartily,  it  tore 
my  glove,  and  actually  started  the  bodice  of  ma's 
dress.  "  Glad  to  see  you,  to  converse  with  you, 
to  promenade  with  you.  Allow  me  the  exqui 
site  pleasure  of  your  arms."  So  saying,  he 
offered  his  elbows ;  and,  with  ma  on  one  side, 
and  your  gay  Rosa  Matilda  on  the  other,  he 
started  down  the  long  hall  with  so  proud  an  air, 
it  did  my  very  soul  good  to  admire  him  I  was 
delighted,  of  course,  and  so  was  ma,  for  she 
swelled  out  amazingly,  and  swung  herself  in  real 
West  End  style.  Oh,  the  nice  things  he  said, 
poet  that  he  is  !  I  gave  away  my  heart  to  him 


186  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

entirely,  and  could  only  look  in  his  face,  and 
smile. 

"Have  you  seen  the  Falls  yet?"  said  he,  sud 
denly.  I  really  had  not  thought  of  them,  and  so 
with  ma.  We  were  too  absorbed  upon  our  first 
appearance ;  but  we  dare  not  confess  that^  for  it 
would  be  provoking  to  an  American  to  see  that 
people  like  us  should  think  so  little  of  the  Great 
Cataract.  So  I  replied  that  I  only  awaited  pa  to 
escort  us  out.  "  Allow  me  the  pleasure  of  your 
company,  Miss  Tallow.  Mr.  Tallow  must  be 
satisfied  with  the  company  of  his  adorable  lady," 
he  said,  with  a  low  bow  and  sweet  smile.  Ma 
was  too  well-bred  to  refuse  this  offer  for  my 
society ;  and  so  off  we  started  for  Mr.  Tallow. 
"We  found  him  looking  after  us.  He  said  "  he 
had  found  some  real  Barclay  down  below,  and 
now  was  braced  for  a  drive  at  the  Falls."  I 
hurried  before  ma,  put  on  my  jaunt  hat,  which, 
you  know,  was  taken  from  our  Lancashire  girl  for 
tearing  ma's  old  gingham  dress  in  washing  it. 
I  looked  charming,  I  assure  you,  my  love.  My 
barege  took  an  air  of  grace  from  the  hat  and  its 
long  ribbons  ;  and  I  felt  so  elated  that  I  know  I 
must  have  been  very  youthful  appearing.  So 
Mr.  Noall  thought,  for  he  said :  "  Miss  Eosa 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  187 

Matilda,  you  look  so  much  more  charming  to 
day  than  I  ever  saw  you  before,  that  I  wondered 
at  your  modesty  in  excluding  yourself  so  much. 
Lord  Frederick  ought  to  see  you  now."  I  could 
have  thrown  my  arms  round  him  for  this  speech. 
I  only  wish  ma  could've  heard  it.  I  could  only 
say :  "  It  is  flattering  to  "be  so  appreciated  by  a 
person  of  your  quality,  and  only  trust  I  shall 
become  more  charming  in  your  eyes,"  looking 
him  full  in  the  face.  He  colored  beautifully  at 
this,  and  said,  fervently  :  "  Impossible  !  impossi 
ble!" 

By  this  time  we  arrived  at  the  observatory,  I 
think  it  is ;  but,  instead  of  going  up,  Mr.  JNToall 
took  me  out  on  a  long  platform,  projecting  over 
the  high  bank.  I  was  really  horror-struck  at  the 
dangerous  place,  and  had  to  shrink  back  ;  but  he 
said:  "  Faint  heart  never  won  brave  man;"  so  I 
slowly  followed  out  to  the  end  of  tha  platform. 

My  eyes !  There  was  the  Falls  in  all  their 
majestic  magnitude  before  us.  I  was  dumb 
founded  for  more  than  a  minute.  I  had  thought 
of  something  like  the  Caermarthen  Cascades, 
which  Uncle  Dawylin  took  me  to  when  I  was  a 
child,  in  Wales ;  but  la !  these  were  so  much 
bigger,  I  could  not  take  them  all  in  at  once. 


188  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY    IN   AMERICA. 

"What  do  you  think  of  them ?"  said  Mr.  NoalL 
"  Oh,  beautiful !  adorable !  very  fine !"  said  I. 
"Anything  like  them  in  England?"  said  he. 
"  "Well,  really,.  I  can't  say.  Caermarthen  Cas 
cades  are  not  so  great,"  said  I.  "  Do  you  think 
the  queen  would  admire  them?"  said  he.  "I 
should  think  so,"  said  I.  "  I  shall  tell  her  of 
them  at  my  interview,  when  I  go  home."  "You 
going  to  have  an  interview  with  Yictoria  ?"  said 
he.  Then,  I  saw  what  a  goose  I  had  made  of 
myself.  Could  I  tell  him  the  object  of  that 
interview,  and  thus  betray  my  country  ?  Never ! 
So  I  said :  "  Yes,  sir ;  I  hope  to  see  the  queen, 
when  I  return  to  England,  to  relate  to  her  all 
that  I've  seen.  I  may  give  her  some  hints  which 
she  would  like."  Wa'n't  that  diplomatically 
done  ?  "  Give  my  love  to  her,"  was  his  reply. 
"  Lord !  is  he  in  love  with  the  queen  ?"  I  said 
to  myself.  Oh,  the  agony  of  that  moment !  I 
said  immediately:  "Let  us  return,  Mr.  Noall, 
for  I  feel  unwell."  "  Dizzy,"  said  he,  "from  too 
much  elevation  of  person." 

So  we  wended  our  way  back  to  the  hotel.  I 
was  quite  silent ;  but  he  rattled  on  like  the  car 
riage  wheel  of  a  duke.  After  a  while,  he  left 
me,  "to  rest  after  the  long  walk,"  he  said,  and 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  189 

promised  to  see  me  on  the  morrow,  and  take  me 
all  around  the  place.  I  withdrew  to  my  room  to 
ruminate  on  the  infidelity  of  man  and  the  fickle 
ness  of  love. 

Pa  and  ma  did  not  come  in  till  dark.  They 
had  hired  a  coach,  and  made  the  fellow  drive  as 
long  as  he  could  see.  They  talked,  and  talked, 
and  wondered,  and  drank  a  bottle  of  Barclay, 
and  asked  me  all  kinds  of  questions,  until  I  told 
them  to  leave  me  to  my  musings ;  when  ma  said, 
"  I  was  growing  poetical  with  that  Mr.  Nball," 
and  left  me  to  myself.  Pa  was,  and  has  been, 
ever  since  our  arrival,  on  his  high  heels,  as  the 
American  boys  express  exuberant  fun ;  and  so 
has  ma.  She  laughs  and  talks  to  every  well- 
dressed  person,  and  makes  herself  generally 
agreeable,  for  all  her  notions  about  being  exclu 
sive.  But,  it  is  true,  everybody  here  is  really 
aristocratic.  So  we  don't  want  to  throw  our 
selves  on  our  dignity  much. 

And  I,  do  you  say,  dear  ?  I  am  really  head 
and  ears  in  love  with  Mr.  Noall.  He  is  so 
charming  !  so  devoted !  so  complimentary !  It 
would  take  a  volume  to  tell  all  the  good  things 
he  has  said.  He  danced  with  me,  last  night,  at 
the  general  reception  ball ;  and  I  tell  you  he  did 


190  THE  TALLOW  FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

it  like  a  count.  Oh,  I  am  so  delighted  here,  and 
wish  I  could  stay  ;  but  pa  says  "  No  1"  And  so 
to-morrow  we  are  off  for  Newport.  Mr.  Noall 
says  he  will  be  there  too,  in  a  few  days ;  so  I  am 
not  disconsolable. 

Oh,  to  be  loved !  I  say  all  the  time  ! 

Adieu,  my  dear,  until  I  write  from  Newport. 

No  more.    My  heart,  be  still. 

For  the  present, 

EOSA  MATILDA  TALLOW. 


LETTEE   SECOND. 

/ 

NEWPORT,  July,  185-. 

DEAR  MIRANDA  : 

I  IMPROVE  the  first  opportunity,  since  our 
arrival  at  this  sweet  place,  to  continue  in 
forming  you  of  what  happens  to  me  in  this 
country,  as  I  promised.  This,  Mr.  Noall  says,  is 
the  Brighton  of  America.  I  am  writing  to  you, 
my  love,  within  the  sound  of  ocean's  roar — or 
would  be,  if  there  was  not  so  much  noise  to  pre 
vent. 

This  morning  I  had  a  charming  walk  on  the 
beach  with  Mr.  ISToall.  Pie  appears  to  be  a  very 
sentimental  young  man.  Every  glance  of  his 
sweet,  dark  eyes  inspired  me  to  say  something 
romantic. 

"  Are  you  fond  of  the  sea  ?"  said  I.  "  Very," 
said  he ;  "  more  than  you  would  believe."  "Ah !" 
said  I,  "a  scene  like  this  always  reminds  me 
of  those  beautiful  verses  of  Tom  Moore's : 

"  '  Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean !  roll!' 

191 


192  THE  TALLOW   FAMILY   IN  AMEEICA. 

He  describes  my  emotions  so  naturally  when  he 

says : 

"'  The  scattered  waters  rave, 

And  the  winds  their  revels  keep ;' 


doesn't  he  yours,  Mr.  Noall?"  "Then  you 
enjoyed  the  voyage  across?"  said  he.  "In 
tensely,"  said  I ;  "  the  sailors  were  so  picturesque 
in  their  bluejackets,  and  the  ocean  was  so  sub 
lime." 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  193 

(The  truth  is,  dear,  I  was  so  horribly  sea-sick 
all  the  way,  that  I  was  only  out  on  deck  once  ; 
and  I  thought  then  the  seamen  were  nasty  crea 
tures,  and  the  ocean  was  nothing  to  brag  of,  giv 
ing  one  such  an  uncomfortable  sensation,  and 
taking  away  all  one's  appetite  for  the  turtle-soup 
which  the  captain  handed  me  with  his  own  hands 
at  dinner.) 

But  I  must  go  back  to  the  beginning,  that  you 
may  understand  how  Mr.  Noall  and '  I  came  to- 
be  walking  on  the  beach  at  Newport  together. 
Well,  I  made  it  a  point  to  have  pa  leave  Niagara 
in  the  same  train  with  him.  I  was  provoked 
almost  beyond  endurance,  you'd  better  believe, 
when  I  saw,  in  the  same  car  with  us,  the  young 
lady  I  have  before  mentioned.  Her  father,  I 
suppose  it  is,  was  with  her.  They  came  in  after 
us,  and  took  seats  in  front  of  us,  not  very  far 
away.  She  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  little  paler 
than  before  ;  and  I  fancied  a  sad  look  about  her 
mouth,  which,  I  must  say,  I  was  not  sorry  to  see, 
if  Mr.  Noall  had  anything  to  do  with  her  being 
so  melancholy.  I  was  looking  right  at  her  when 
he  came  in  from  seeing  to  his  baggage  ;  and  she 
Hushed  up  as  pink  as  my  paint-saucer,  and  then 
got  whiter  than  ever ;  he  just  bowed  to  her  with- 
9 


194:  THE  TALLOW  FAMILY  IN  AMEEICA. 

out  speaking,  said  something  about  the  weather 
to  her  father,  and  then  came  and  sat  down  by 
me,  asking  my  permission  in  the  most  elegant 
manner.  Of  course,  I  was  only  too  glad  to  give 
it.  He  sat  by  me  all  the  way  to  Buffalo,  talking 
so  gay,  and  making  himself  so  agreeable  to  pa 
and  ma,  and  was  so  attentive  about  the  draught 
coming  in  the  windows,  and  about  my  shawl,  that 
I  began  to  be  certain  he  meant  something  par 
ticular.  I  was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  happi 
ness  ;  and  all  the  time  the  young  lady,  whom  I 
heard  her  father  call  Emmeline,  got  stiller  and 
sadder.  At  first,  she  tried  to  be  merry,  and 
make  her  pa  smile  ;  but,  at  last,  she  just  turned 
and  looked  out  of  the  window  ;  and  he  read  his 
paper  in  quiet. 

At  Buffalo — a  big  town,  where  Mr.  ISToall 
informed  me  the  buffaloes  came  to  drink  out  of 
Lake  Erie  before  the  place  was  settled — my  hap- 
ness  was  brought  to  a  sudden  termination.  The 
young  man  arose,  and  wished  us  good-day,  say 
ing  he  was  going  no  further  at  present.  I  pre 
sume  I  looked  disappointed,  for  he  said,  with  one 
of  his  smiles  that  make  me  feel  so  flustrated : 
"  But  I  hope  to  meet  you  at  Newport,  Miss  Tallow, 
before  you  have  been  there  a  week."  So  I  had 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY    IN    AMERICA.  195 

nothing  to  do  but  anticipate  ;  and  I  slionld  have 
been  quite  certain  of  his  intentions  if  the  gin 
and  her  pa  had  not  also  parted  company  with  us 
at  the  same  time. 

I  do  think  ma  knows  about  as  well  as  the  best 
how  to  play  her  cards.  I  assure  you  she  did  not 
let  the  opportunity  slip  for  deepening  the  favor 
able  impression  which  my  arts  were  making  upon 
the  young  man  who  had  once  spent  a  week  with 
My  Lord  Frederick  Duncy. 

"  I  feel  some  compunctions,  Mr.  IsToall,"  she 
told  him,  as  we  rode  along — this  was  before  he 
left  us,  of  course — "  in  taking  our  Rosa  Matilda 
to  an  American  wTatering-place.  They  say  that 
everybody  goes  to  such  places  in  this  country, 
and  Rosa  has  always  been  so  select  in  her  com 
pany.  Things  are  so  different  in  London,  you 
know,  where  people  are  not  obliged  to  come  in 
contest  (contact,  she  meant)  with  the  vulgar,  Mr. 
Noall.  And  she  is  so  young  and  inexperienced. 
Of  course,  she'll  be  sought  after ;  for  a  girl  with 
twenty  thousand  pounds  on  her  wedding  day,  is 
not  to  be  slighted.  But  how  to  tell  the  high 
from  the  low  here,  is  what  I  want  to  know.  I 
hope  we  shall  not  be  imposed  upon.  "We  shall 
expect  you  to  be  a  protector  to  Rosa  Matilda ; 


196  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

she  is  so  unsuspicious."  "  I  trust  her  innocence 
will  be  her  best  shield,"  was  his  sweet  reply. 
"  My  twenty  thousand  pounds,  made  by  hard  ear 
nings  in  the  candle  business  " — (I  nearly  screamed 
out  here,  Miranda,  pa's  such  a  fool  about  such 
things) — "  shan't  go  to  any  low-bred  American," 
growled  pa.  "  He's  got  at  least  to  have  been  in 
old  England,  and  associated  with  the  aristocracy, 
whoever  he  is,  before  he  gets  the  first  penny 
of  it."  "  Mr.  Koall  knows  'em  all,"  said  ma. 

It  was  just  here  that  the  train  stopped,  and  we 
lost  him. 

"  I  guess  your  twenty  thousand  pounds  made 
him  stare,"  remarked  ma,  after  we  were  on  our 
way  again.  "  I  hope,  Rosa  Matilda,  that  you 
will  take  advantage  of  the  present  favorable 
opportunities.  It  is  true  that  no  American  can 
be  a  person  of  title ;  but,  if  the  nobility  chooses 
to  associate  with  this  young  man,  I  don't  see 
why  we  should  hold  our  heads  any  higher.  I 
hope  your  arts  will  be  more  successful  than  they 
were  at  Brighton."  "  If  i  practice  makes  per 
fect,'  Rosa  ought  to  be  perfect  by  this  time," 
said  pa,  who,  you  know,  has  not  got  the  temper 
of  an  angel.  "I  almost  think  you're  a  born 
idiot,  at  times,  Mr.  Tallow,"  cried  ma.  "  "What 


THE    TALLOW    FAMILY    IN    AMERICA.  197 

in  'the  name  of  sense  do  you  speak  about  the 
candle  business  for,  just  at  that  inauspicious 
moment  when  I  was  plotting  for  my  daughter's 
welfare  ?  Do  you  think  I  can  see  her  prospects 
of  happiness  thus  ruthlessly  overthrown  by  her 
own  flesh-and-blood  relative,  her  father,  and  sit 
still  in  my  seat  ?"  She  was  obliged  to  sit  still  in 
her  seat,  for,  I  assure  you,  her  size  did  not  admit 
of  much  fidgeting  about  in  a  railroad-carriage 
seat.  "Do  be  a  little  more  circumspectuous 
after  this,  Mr.  Tallow !"  "  It's  my  opinion  a 
soap-and-candle  factory  ain't  any  too  strong  for 
American  noses,"  replied  pa,  in  a  huff.  "  For 
Heaven's  sake,  pa,  do  speak  a  little  lower !"  said 
I.  "  When  we  might  just  as  wTell  pass  for  peo 
ple  who  inherited  their  money,  what's  the  use 
in  letting  it  "be  known*  you  made  it  ?  Now,  you 
know,  with  that  grand  air  of  yours,  you  might 
as  well  pass  for  the  Lord  Mayor  himself,  or  per 
haps  a  baronet,  if  you'd  be  quiet  about  the 
chandler's  shop." 

I  know  better  how  to  manage  him  than  ma. 
The  idea  of  being  mistaken  for  a  baronet  put 
him  in  a  good  humor  at  once  ;  and  he  has  not 
mentioned  the  shop  since.  On  the  contrary,  he 
orders  the  servants  about  grander  than  ever; 


198  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

and  I  cannot  tell  you  how  pleased  I  was  to  find 
that  he  had  entered  our  names  on "  the  book  at 
the  Ocean  House  as  "  Sir  Tudor  Stewart  Tallow, 
wife,  and  daughter." 

Oh,  Miranda,  I  wish  my  pen  could  do  justice 
to  my  emotions,  and  give  you  a  faint  idea  of 
what  a  love  of  a  place  this  is  !  But  the  charges 
are  ruinous  ;  and  I  don't  believe  pa  would  stay 
a  week,  if  ma  did  not  persuade  him  that  a  few 
days'  expense  might  bring  about  an  engagement 
between  me  and  Mr.  Noall.  And,  indeed,  I 
think  so  myself,  he's  so  extremely  polite  to  us ; 
and  the  very  thought  keeps  me  in  such  a  flutter 
that  I  am  actually  losing  my  appetite. 

"We  had  a  choice  of  rooms  upon  arriving  here, 
for  it's  too  early  in  July  for  the  "  season  "  to  be 
fairly  commenced.  There's  not  much  of  a  jam 
yet,  though  the  hotels  are  full.  Ma  wanted  to 
take  a  "  sweet "  of  rooms  with  a  parlor  that  was 
offered  to  us ;  but  the  price  was  so  enormous 
that  pa  flatly  refused.  We  have  two  bedrooms  ; 
and  I  tell  ma,  when  I  want  to  vex  her,  that  we 
will  have  to  order  the  partition  between  them 
taken  down  to  give  her  a  chance  to  turn  round. 
If  it  was  not  for  the  ocean  breezes,  we  would  suf 
focate  in  the  act  of  dressing ;  and  that's  the  most 


THE   TALLOW    FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  199 

of  the  time  here ;  for  the  ladies  of  this  country 
beat  my  eyes  with  their  beautiful  clothes.  I 
never  saw  anything  like  it — -so  superb !  I  tell 
you  we  can't  begin  to  shine,  and  could  not  more 
than  equal  them  if  all  our  trunks  full  of  old 
clothes  were  crowded  with  elegant  things  from 
Paris.  But  mother's  paste  diamonds  are  so 
sumptuous  that  she  does  not  need  so  much  vari 
ety.  As  for  me,  I  affect  the  simplicity  of  seven 
teen;  while  pa  gives  people  very  plainly  to 
understand  that  it  is  not  because  Rosa  Matilda 
has  not  the  guineas  at  her  fingers'  ends  that  she 
does  not  have  as  many  dresses  as  Queen  Yic- 
toria. 

Oh,  Miranda,  such  dancing  and  waltzing  as 
we  have  here  every  night  is  enough  to  bewilder 
one  with  ecstasy !  The  young  men  are,  all  of 
them,  delightful;  though  I  have  seen  none,  as 
yet,  the  superior  of  Mr.  Noall,  except  that  I 
admire  the  manners  of  some  more — they  are  so 
dashing,  and  say  such  funny  things.  However, 
my  heart  is  given  to  the  first-mentioned ;  and  I 
shall  never  love  another.  I  feel  it  through  every 
fibre  of  my  existence! 

Speaking  of  him  reminds  me  again  to  begin 
at  the  beginning.  Yesterday  being  our  third 


200  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEEICA. 

day  here,  I  was  looking  out  the  window  at  the 
arrival  of  the  omnibus,  when  I  saw  him  get  out. 
How  my  heart  palpitated,  as  he  sprang  so 
elegantly  to  the  ground !  And  how  overjoyed  I 
was  to  see  that  the  young  lady  who  had  excited 
my  jealousy  was  not  with  him !  I  finished 
dressing  for  dinner,  and  went  down  in  the 
parlor  in  the  hopes  of  a  meeting  with  him 
immediately.  "Wishing  to  appear  pensive  in  his 
absence,  I  sat  down  to  the  piano,  and  sang,  in 
my  most  impassioned  style,  "'Tis  said  that 
absence  conquers  love."  As  I  was  dwelling 
upon  the  last  line,  I  was  conscious  of  his  entrance 
into  the  room,  though  I  did  not  cast  my  eyes 
that  way,  but  fixed  them  upon  the  ceiling. 
There  was  an  admiring  crowd  around  the  instru 
ment,  listening  to  my  music.  As  I  ceased,  I 
allowed  my  gaze  to  descend  from  the  ceiling, 
until  my  eyes  met  his ;  then  I  gave  a  little  start 
of  surprise,  and  immediately  left  the  instrument, 
as  if  overcome.  He  was  not  the  only  one 
affected  by  my  little  bit  of  acting.  As  I  crossed 
the  apartment,  I  heard  a  splendid-looking  young 
man  murmur  under  his  breath:  "Heavens! 
what  emotion  must  not  such  youth,  beauty,  and 
constancy  inspire  in  the  breast  of  him  who 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY    IN   AMERICA.  201 

awakes  it !"  "  United  with  such  golden  ringlets 
and  other  golden  charms,"  whispered  another 
gay  fellow  by  his  side. 

"  So  you  arrived  in  safety,  Miss  Tallow.  How 
are  your  parents  ?  I  trust  you  have  been  enjoy 
ing  yourself,"  said  Mr.  Noall,  coming  and  sitting 
by  me  as  soon  as  I  reached  a  sofa.  "  I  have 
been  living  upon  hope,"  replied  I,  archly. 
"  Ah !"  said  he ;  "  that  is  unsubstantial  food. 
Perhaps  that  is  the  reason  you  so  much  resem 
ble  an  ethereal  being,  Miss  Tallow.  You  are  so 
light  and  airy,  one  almost  looks  to  see  you  flut 
ter  away  in  a  cloud  of  your  own  pink  ribbons." 

I  blushed  and  smiled,  inwardly  resolving  to 
eat  no  more  roast  beef,  even  to  deny  myself 
plum-pudding  and  ale,  if  necessary  to  keep  up 
my  delicate  appearance.  Ma  says  I  am  too 
thin ;  and  pa  says  I  am  scrawny ;  but  I  think 
Mr.  ^call's  taste  is  as  good  as  theirs. 

That  evening,  I  wore  my  handsomest  ball- 
dress,  and  had  Monsieur  Frizzle  to  curl  my  hair. 
My  dress  was  of  sky-blue  satin,  trimmed  with 
primroses,  with  an  Indian  gauze  scarf  twisted  in 
the  back  of  my  hair,  and  floating  down  my 
shoulders.  I  natter  myself  the  scarf  gave  me 
the  appearance  of  an  angel  with  wings  as  I 
9* 


202  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

moved  in  the  dance.  Mr.  Noall  asked  me  to  dance 
the  mazurka,  and  had  just  led  me  to  a  seat  when* 
I  saw,  standing  inside  the  door,  as  if  they  had 
just  entered  the  ball-room,  the  young  girl  and  her 
father.  I  have  learned  their  names  from  Mr. 
IsToall,  for  I  asked  him  straight  out  who  they  were. 
Mr.  Stanley,  the  father,  is  an  ex-senator  of  the 
United  States,  and  a  distinguished  politician.  His 
daughter,  Emmeline,  is  his  only  child ;  and  he 
takes  her  everywhere  with  him.  They  are  very 
aristocratic,  I  should  judge,  from  the  attentions 
paid  them.  Mr.  Noall  likewise  told  me  they  resi 
ded  in  the  same  city  with  himself.  I  cannot  deny 
to  you  that  she  is  beautiful.  She  has  large  bright 
eyes  of  the  softest  brown,  an  oval  face  with  real 
color  in  her  cheeks — just  the  faintest,  except  when 
she  blushes — and  the  loveliest  hands  and  arms, 
and  the  glossiest  hair.  Her  dress  was  not  so  low 
in  the  neck  as  the  most ;  and  she  wore  a  jacket  of 
exquisite  lace  that  must  have  cost  a  sum  of  money, 
and  come  up  around  her  white  throat,  and  fas 
tened  with  a  pearl  brooch.  Of  course,  she  is  a 
prude !  How  I  do  hate  'em,  the  affected  things ! 
When  Mr.  ISToall  told  me  who  they  were,  I 
was  anxious  to  become  acquainted  with  them, 
and  hinted  as  much,  but  he  did  not  offer  to 


THE   TALLOW  FAMILY   IN   AMEEICA.  205 

introduce  me.  I  noticed  that  she  received  a 
great  deal  of  attention ;  bnt  need  I  attempt  to 
express  how  glad  I  felt  when  I  saw  that  Mr. 
Noall  did  not  offer  to  dance  with  her  at  all,  nor 
even  speak  to  her,  but  danced  with  me  twice, 
and  asked  me,  when  we  parted  in  the  ball-room, 
to  walk  on  the  beach  with  him  the  next  morning  ? 

And  so  it  happened  that  I  was  so  supremely 
fortunate  as  to  promenade  with  him  by  the 
"  shore  of  the  surging  sea."  We  walked  along 
the  beach  where  the  ladies,  and  children,  and 
their  gentleman  attendants,  were  bathing  in  the 
surf.  It  was  a  very  animated  scene.  As  my 
companion  said,  "  it  reminded  him  of  the  possi 
bility  of  mermaids,  combing  their  golden  tresses 
with  their  fingers."  And  he  looked  at  my 
ringlets,  as  much  as  to  say  I  would  make  a  pretty 
mermaid.  I  thought  I  would  myself,  and  was 
hoping  he  would  ask  me  to  go  in  the  water, 
although  I  had  some  doubts  about  its  being 
entirely  modest  to  go  in  with  any  one  except 
one's  father  or  relative. 

As  we  stood  on  the  beach,  who  should  hurry 
past  us,  while  we  were  looking  at  some  children 
frolicking  in  the  waves,  but  Mr.  Stanley  and  his 
daughter,  on  their  way  to  the  bath-houses,  a  few 


204  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN    AMERICA. 

steps  off,  to  change  their  bathing-dresses.  They 
did  not  see  who  we  were.  They  had  been  in  the 
surf,  and  the  young  lady's  cheeks  were  as  red  as 
roses ;  and  her  hair  had  come  down,  and  the  wet 
had  made  it  part  into  a  thousand  little  shining 
curls ;  and  her  little  bare  feet  were  as  delicate  as 
sea-shells.  I  saw  Mr.  Noall's  eyes  following  her 
until  she  disappeared.  I  thought  the  full  Turk 
ish  trowsers,  and  all  that,  were  very  romantic ; 
and  I  secretly  longed  to  see  myself  attired  in 
yiem,  and  feel  the  delicious  sensation  of  the  sea 
breaking  over  me  in  the  arms  of  Mr.  ~N"oall. 
But  I  shall  have  to  wait  until  we  are  married 
(oh,  Miranda,  how  that  sounds  !)  for  I've  discre 
tion  enough  to  know  that  the  water  would  wash 
every  trace  of  the  rose-pink  from  my  cheeks, 
and  that,  instead  of  making  my  hair  curl  like 
Miss  Stanley's,  it  would  straighten  it  out  into 
anything  but  beautiful  locks ;  and,  as  for  my 
feet,  dear,  you  know,  confidentially,  that  they 
never  were  as  plump  as  pin-cushions,  nor  as  soft 
as  lily-leaves. 

"Well,  there  we  stood  for  full  ten  minutes  ;  and, 
upon  my  word,  Mr.  JSToall  never  took  his  eyes 
off  the  little  cabin  in  which  the  young  lady  had 
disappeared  ! 


THE   TALLOW    FAMILY    IN   AMERICA.     -        205 

"  You  seem  to  be  indulging  in  a  very  ab 
stracted  meditation,"  I  remarked,  at  last,  with 
just  enough  meaning  in  my  tone  to  convey  to 
him  that  I  was  aware  of  where  his  thoughts 
wrere  roving,  "  Ah,  Miss  Tallow,  there  is  a 
charm  in  this  vicinity — the  ocean,  you  know, 
and — the — the" —  And  here  he  broke  right  off, 
and  stared  at  Miss  Stanley,  who  had  emerged 
from  the  bath-house  in  the  sweetest  morning- 
dress,  and  such  a  cunning  little  hat  on,  and  her 
hair  tucked  up  under  it,  and  half  of  it  blowing 
about  her  face  in  a  way  to  awaken  jealousy  in 
the  most  angelic  breast.  Her  father  was  wait 
ing  for  her,  and  gave  her  his  arm.  As  they 
passed,  he  spoke :  "  Ha !  good-morning,  Ed 
ward!"  as  if  he  had  been  addressing  a  very 
intimate  friend :  but  the  girl  only  bowed ;  and  I 
was  positive  I  saw  a  slight  smile  come  over  her 
face  as  she  glanced  at  me.  I  expected  her  to 
frown  with  envy ;  but  she  didn't ;  but,  after 
they  were  gone  by,  and  I  looked  up  at  my  com 
panion,  he  was  frowning  and  biting  his  lips. 
After  that,  he  was  not  near  so  communicative  as 
before  ;  and  we  were  having  rather  a  silent  time 
of  it  back  to  the  hotel.  When  we  arrived,  and 
went  on  to  the  piazza,  Miss  Stanley  was  there, 


206  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

with  a  book  ;  and  Mr.  Noall  commenced  making 
himself  ten  times  more  agreeable  than  ever.  As 
we  walked  past  her  so  close  that  she  must  have 
heard,  he  said,  in  his  sweetest  manner  :  "  May  I 
consider  you  engaged  to  ride  with  me  this  after 
noon  at  six  ?"  "  With,  mamma's  consent,  I  shall 
be  too  happy,"  I  replied ;  and  I  was  afraid  he 
could  see  how  my  heart  fluttered  at  this  unex 
pected  honor. 

So,  as  pa  and  ma  were  standing  by  the  rail 
ing,  conversing  with  two  or  three  dashing-look 
ing  people,  we  approached  them. 

"Ah,  here  comes  my  darling  Rosa  !"  exclaimed 
ma,  in  the  warmest  manner,  as  she  perceived  us. 
"  I  hope  the  bathing  was  not  too  much  for  your 
nerves,  my  child,  and  that  Mr.  Noall  has  taken 
good  care  of  you.  But  of  course  he  has  done 
that,"  she  continued,  smiling  at  him  as  if  he  were 
already  her  son,  and  tapping  his  shoulder  with  her 
fan.  Pa  was  busy  talking  with  the  gentlemen.  He 
wore  his  red  velvet  vest ;  and  I  thought  he  was 
looking  very  well.  "  For  foreigners  are  rather 
hard  upon  us,"  one  of  the  gentlemen,  a  very 
quiet-looking  person,  was  saying.  "  Dickens,  for 
instance,  repaid  our  admiration  rather  roughly." 
"  Dickens's  career  in  this  country,  sir,"  replied 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  207 

pa,  in  his  grandest  style,  fcand  unbuttoning  his 
waistcoat  to  throw  out  his  chest,  "  was  a  warn 
ing  to  me.  I  almost  resolved  to  travel  among 
the  Americans,  incognito,  to  avoid  the  trouble 
some  attentions  which  befell  him.  '  It  will 
never  do,'  I  said  to  myself,  'to  write  myself 
down  Sir  Tudor  Stewart  Tallow,  in  that  country, 
if  I  would  be  safe  from  the  populace.'  But  Lady 
Tallow  did  not  agree  with  me  upon  the  propriety 
of  placing  ourselves  upon  an  equality  with  the 
c  vulgar  throng,'  as  she  very  properly  expressed 
herself;  and  so  we  ventured  upon  retaining  the 
family  title."  "  I  hope  your  health  has  not  suf 
fered  from  extreme  persecutions  of  the  kind 
your  great  novelist  was  subjected  to,"  said  the 
gentleman,  with  a  polite  smile. 

What  more  they  said,  I  did  not  stop  to  hear, 
for  I  was  so  nustrated  with  Mr.  !N  call's  oifer, 
that  I  wanted  to  fly  to  my  apartment  to  think 
it  over,  and  communicate  my  hopes  to  ma,  who 
followed  me  up-stairs  to  learn  if  anything  had 
happened  particular  during  our  walk.  "  I  con 
sider  it  as  good  as  a  proposal  of  marriage,"  said 
ma,  decidedly.  And  so  do  I,  dear;  and  you 
may  imagine  the  state  of  anticipation  I  am  in. 
It's  a  wonder  I  can  write  at  all.  In  one  hour. 


208  THE   TALLOW    FAMILY   IN  AMERICA. 

Miranda,  it  will  be  the  appointed  time  for  that 
ride  which  is  to  decide  my  destiny.  I  can  hardly 
hold  my  pen  to  say  more ;  and  I  have,  besides, 
to  go  and  put  on  that  sweet  orange  silk  of  mine 
for  the  drive. 

One  thing  is  certain.  Mr.  Noall  means  to  give 
that  young  lady  to  understand  that  Americans 
cannot  hope  to  shine  when  there  are  foreign 
stars  around.  His  manner  toward  her  has  said 
as  much.  I  am  so  glad  we  came.  Pa  grumbles 
at  the  expense ;  but,  when  he  gets  rne  so  well 
off  his  hands,  I  think  he  will  be  satisfied.  The 
adoption  of  his  title  keeps  him  in  pretty  good 
humor,  too.  But,  positively,  no  more  until  to 
morrow,  or  until  I  can  write  you  particulars  of 
the  happy  news,  which  I  shall  do  as  soon  after  as 
I  am  sufficiently  composed.  In  a  tumult  of 
blissful  sensation, 

Your  fortunate 

KOSA  MATILDA  TALLOW. 


LETTEE   THIED. 

NEWPORT,  July,  185-. 

MY  DEAR  MIRANDA  : 

IT  was  in  a  flood  of  gorgeous  anticipations 
that  I  closed  my  last.  My  happiness  is  not 
yet  complete ;  but  I  am  in  a  state  of  hope  which 
I  have  not  been  in  since  you  and  I  were  at 
Brighton.  America  is  indeed  a  sweet  place.  I 
care  not  what  pa  nor  the  British  Parliament 
says  about  it;  it's  a  dear,  sweet  place,  especially 
for  young  ladies.  My  only  wish,  Miranda,  is  that 
you  were  here  ;  that  is  my  only  wish,  except  the 
one  which  I  feel  is  soon  to  be  gratified.  Pa 
talks  a  good  deal  with  the  gentlemen  about 
the  dismissal  of  our  minister,  and  says  he 
wonders  the  English  nation  did  not  declare 
war  against  the  United  States  at  once;  but, 
despite  of  all  that,  he  grows  better-natured 
every  day,  and  does  not  growl  half  so  much 
as  usual  when  ma  and  I  ask  him  for  a  little 
pin-money.  The  reason  of  his  good  temper  is 


210  THE   TALLOW    FAMILY   IN    AMEElCA. 

that  all  the  visitors  here  have  got  to  calling  him 
Sir  Tudor,  when  they  address  him,  and  ma, 
Lady  Tallow.  You  can't  imagine  what  an 
effect  this  has  upon  pa — and  ma,  too,  as 
for  that  matter.  I  am  sometimes  afraid  that  his 
accent  will  betray  him,  for  you  remember  how 
all  my  frettings  never  could  induce  him  to  drop 
that  horrid  habit  of  misplacing  all  his  h's.  Still, 
as  everybody  calls  him  Sir  Tudor,  and  treats 
him  with  the  greatest  attention,  I  presume  we 
pass  for  the  real  thing.  I've  seen  some  of 
the  young  ladies  tittering,  sometimes,  when  they 
were  saying  things  to  him,  and  ma,  and  I,  which 
we  did  not  exactly  understand;  and,  though 
they  sounded  like  very  polite  things,  I  have 
sometimes  suspected  they  were  poking  fun  at  us. 
Young  ladies,  especially  those  pert  creatures  who 
ought  still  to  be  in  their  pinafores,  can  be  so  dis 
agreeable  wThen  they  choose,  especially  when  the 
spiteful  things  are  envious;  and  I  can  see  that 
the  attentions  of  Herbert  Noall  (Herbert !  isn't 
that  a  sweet  name,  darling  ?)  is  half  killing  theni 
with  envy  of  me.  Speaking  of  pa  and  the  minis 
ter  reminds  me  of  another  little  fear  I  have, 
which  is  almost  the  only  cloud  upon  the  heaven 
of  my  summer's  enjoyment ;  and  that  is  that  there 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  211 

is  talk  of  Lord  Kapler's  being  in  Newport ;  and 
some  of  the  company  are  looking  for  him  every 
train  that  arrives.  If  he  should  come  before  I 
have  secured  Mr.  Noall,  I  don't  know  what  the 
consequences  will  be ;  for  we  have  pretended  to 
such  an  intimacy  with  the  nobility,  that  every 
body  will  expect  us  to  know  him  well,  and  to 
present  them  to  him.  Indeed,  they  are  all  talk 
ing  to  us  about  him  now,  and  asking  all  sorts 
of  questions  ;  so  that  I  believe  ma  tells  more  fibs 
every  day  on  his  account  than  her  conscience 
will  ever  forgive  her  for.  Pa  can  tell  stories 
without  so  much  danger  of  tripping,  for  he  has 
often  seen  him  in  public  places  in  London ;  but 
ma  nor  I  never  laid  eyes  on  him  in  our  lives. 
Ma  came  pretty  near  getting  into  a  scrape  yes 
terday.  Somebody  got  her  to  describe  Lord 
Napier's  personal  appearance  and  manners,  and 
then  coolly  told  her  that  pa  had  just  represented 
him  very  different.  I  felt  the  color  spreading 
over  my  face  and  neck,  for  I  did  not  see  what 
ma  could  do  ;  but  she  said,  very  quietly,  that 
Sir  Tudor  was  always  confounding  Lord  Napier 
with  Sir  Lytton,  with  both  of  whom  he  was  very 
intimate;  and  he  must  have  been  speaking  with 
his  usual  absent-mindedness.  Oh,  dear !  I  do 


212  THE   TALLOW  FAMILY   IX    AMERICA. 

hope  he  will  stay  away,  at  least  a  few  days  lon 
ger.  How  ujofortunate  it  would  be  to  have  that 
lord  arriving  here  just  in  time  to  ruin  the  hopes 
wliich  I  have  erected  for  the  hundredth  time, 
and  this  time  the  brightest  of  all !  . 

When  I  closed  my  last,  it  was  to  take  that 
eventful  ride  with  Mr.  !N"oall.  Well,  I  dressed 
in  my  best,  and  rode  down  along  the  beach  by 
his  side.  The  evening  was  lovely,  and  the  road 
was  crowded  ;  and  I,  your  Rosa  Tallow,  had  the 
handsomest  beau  ;  .and  he  had  the  finest  turn-out 
there  was  upon  the  beach.  My  heart  was  in  my 
mouth  the  most  of  the  time,  for  I  was  sure  that 
he  was  upon  the  verge  of  a  proposal.  I  saw  it 
in  his  eyes — not  that  I  ever  had  a  genuine  pro 
posal,  or  can  speak  from  experience  (between 
you  and  I,  pet),  but  just  as  it  is  described  in 
novels.  He  sighed  several  times  ;  and  his  man 
ner  was  so  obstructed  that  I  was  sure  we  should 
run  into  somebody's  vehicle,  or  they  would  into 
ours;  and  1  nearly  screamed  at  the  danger  of 
upsetting  at  least  three  times.  The  ride  came  to 
an  end,  as  all  earthly  bliss  must;  and  he  had  not 
committed  himself,  except  by  his  actions. 
"They  spoke  louder  than  words." 

When  we  arrived  in  front  of  our  hotel,  I  saw 


THE  TALLOW   FAMILY   IN  AMERICA.  213 

the  pale  face  of  Miss  Stanley  glance  from  behind 
a  curtain,  and  instantly  withdrew.  I  thought 
there  were  tears  in  her  large  eyes;  and  I  am 
sure  she  grows  thinner  and  quieter  every  day. 
Mr.  K~oall  saw  her  too.  He  had  not  spoken  for 
the  last  ten  minutes ;  but  he  handed  me  out  of 
the  carriage  with  such  a  bow  as  was  eloquence 
itself.  Ma  was  waiting  in  the  parlors,  looking 
out  for  me,  and  hurried  me  to  my  room  to  ask  if 
the  matter  was  settled.  I  was  obliged  to  confess 
that  it  was  not ;  but,  when  I  told  of  my  compan 
ion's  manner,  she  was  satisfied,  and  so  was  pa, 
and  so  pleased  with  that,  and  with  the  respect 
paid  him  down-stairs,  that  he  voluntarily,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  pulled  out  his  wallet,  and 
gave  me  enough  money  to  send  to  New  York, 
and  order  a  new  ball-dress  for  the  grand  first 
ball  of  the  season,  which  comes  off  to-morrow  at 
this  hotel.  I  have  sent  my  orders,  along  with 
several  other  ladies,  and  expect  a  perfect  love  of 
a  dress  to  arrive  in  a  bandbox  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  In  the  meantime,  I  am  to  have  another 
ride.  Just  think  of  it !  This  afternoon,  I  go  out 
again  with  Mr.  ISToall;  and  he  has  not  taken 
another  unmarried  lady  out  since  he  came,  not 
even  Miss  Stanley,  who  just  bows  to  him  now. 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN    AMERICA. 

'Tis  evening,  now  ;  and  I  am  another  woman, 
a  poor,  broken-hearted  creature  ;  and,  while  I 
write,  ma  is  in  a  fit  of  dnmps  too  deep  to  say 
anything;  and. pa  strides  np  and  down  the  room, 
muttering  great  oaths  about  these  Americans, 
these  wretches  that  they  are.  I  will  tell  you 
how  it  all  happened.  It  is  a  dreadful  tale. 

In  the  afternoon,  at  three,  ISToall — the  brute  ! 
the  beast !  the  animal  that  he  is  ! — drove  np ; 
and,  all  expectancy,  I  descended  from  the  piazza 
to  the  carriage.  Off  we  drove,  in  fine  style,  I 
assure  you,  for  it  was  a  splendid  establishment, 
such  as  I  never  dreamed  of  riding  with.  "We 
went  into  the  interior,  where  nature  was  most 
wooing,  for  there,  I  thought,  surely  he  must  pro 
pose.  On  the  way,  whom  should  we  pass  but 
Miss  Stanley — the  mean,  deceitful  wretch ! — and 
her  pa,  who  were  driving  out  in  their  own  estab 
lishment,  which  had  just  come  on  that  day. 
They  passed  us  quickly,  and  only  gave  Noall — 
the  wretch ! — a  cold  bow,  as  usual.  His  cheek, 
1  saw,  turned  first  red  as  beer,  then  pale  as  tal 
low  ;  but  he  was  very  devoted  to  me,  and  leaned 
over  his  head  so  near  as  actually  to  touch  my 
shoulder.  What  a  delicious  sensation  it  did  pro 
duce  !  I  only  wish  you,  my  dear  thing,  could 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  215 

v 

realize  the  "  magic  of  that  touch,"  as  the  poetic 
grinder  used  to  sing  by  our  back  door.  Oh,  the 
wretch,  to  thus  dare  to  touch  my  feelings!  Well, 
I  was  in  too  much  ecstasy  of  bliss  to  note  any 
thing,  and  hardly  knew  that  he  had  turned  his 
horse's  head  toward  the  beach.  We  were  soon 
on  the  thronged  highway,  where  there  is  always 
such  a  funny  sight — the  ocean,  the  people  in  all 
manner  of  dresses,  some  for  a  walk,  some  on 
horseback,  some  in  carriage,  some  going  and 
some  coming  from  the  bathing-rooms,  and  some 
up  for  all  manner  of  things.  Here  my  tragedy 
of  life  is  written.  Oh,  would  I  had  never  been 
born  !  or,  at  least,  would  that  I  had  never  seen 
Newport !  Wretched  place !  How  can  I  tell 
you  what  happened?  But  I  will,  just  to  ease 
my  heart,  which  feels  like  a  tallow  barrel  with 
the  hoops  all  bursted  off,  to  use  the  expressive 
words  of  pa. 

We  came  down  to  the  beach-road  in  fine  style. 
My  blue  ribbons  streamed  out  grandly.  I  sat 
up,  looking  like  the  queen,  I  know,  so  full  of 
prMe  and  dignity  did  my  bosom  feel.  I  scorned 
the  vulgar  people  around  me ;  and  I  could  see,  as 
we  passed,  how  they  envied  us.  Oh,  I  can't  go 
on  !  but  I  must.  I  will  out  on  him,  the  wretch ! 


216  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

We  were  going  along  down  the  beach  rapidly, 
when  we  saw  a  carriage  coming  toward  us  like 
the  wind.  People  screamed,  and  rushed  awaj, 
some  into  the  surf,  and  some  into  the  gardens.  I 
saw,  with  my  eaglet's  eye,  that  it  was  a  furious 
runaway.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Noall,  drive  away  ;  any 
where,  I  say !"  I  screamed.  But  he  stopped 
his  team  dead  still,  as  true  as  I  live,  the  brute  ! 
On  the  carriage  came  ;  and,  when  it  neared  us,  I 
saw — oh  dear! — that  it  was  Mr.  Stanley's  car 
riage,  and  that  the  driver  was  thrown  from  his 
seat,  and  the  lines  on  the  ground.  One  line 
caught  in  the  wheel,  and  turned  the  horses' 
heads  right  in  the  water ;  and,  as  true  as  cattle- 
day,  they  plunged  right  into  the  surf.  It  was 
done  all  in  a  moment.  A  long  shriek  came  from 
the  carriage ;  and  then  all  on  shore  held  their 
breath  in  silence.  But,  quick  as  thought,  Noall 
sprang  from  my  side,  gave  the  lines  to  a 
gardener  standing  near,  and  then  plunged  into 
the  surf  after  the  carriage.  I  would  have 
swooned,  but  confess  that  I  was  mad  and  morti 
fied  that  he  should  leave  me  to  rescue  Miss  Stan 
ley — the  vixen  ! — from  drowning.  I  sat  almost 
stupefied.  He  swam  after  the  horses,  now 
several  rods  out  in  the  sea,  and  plunging  terribly. 


THE   TALLOW  FAMILY  IN  AMERICA.  217 

In  a  minute,  as  it  were,  he  was  at  the  carriage — 
he  sprang  upon  the  driver's  seat — he  pulled  out 
first  the  old  man,  Stanley,  and  then  Miss  Stan 
ley  ;  and,  placing  his  arms  around  the  creature — 
oh  that  she  had  drowned ! — he  leaped  into  the 
water,  and  soon  brought  her  to  shore.  The  old 
man  soon  followed  in  the  arms  of  two  other  men, 
who,  by  this  time,  had  the  courage  to  go  to  the 
rescue. 

What  do  you  think  were  my  feelings  all  this 
time?  But  what  will  you  think  when  I  tell  you 
JSToall  stooped  over  the  body  of  Miss  Stanley, 
and  pressed  his  lips  to  hers,  and  placed  her 
hands  in  his  bosom,  while  he  actually  raised 
her  head  in  his  arms?  Oh,  my  agony  was 
indescribable !  But  there  is  no  end  to  some 
people's  misery  (pa  says,  no  more  than  there  is 
to  a  fall  in  the  market  when  tallow  gets  to  going 
down),  for  the  wretch  actually  brought  her  to 
our  own  carriage ;  he  placed  her  in  it;  and,  while 
she  reclined  upon  his  breast,  he  drove  rapidly  to 
the  hotel.  The  old  man  followed  in  another  car 
riage.  I  assure  you  I  looked  at  that  base  man 
at  my  side  with  a  power  that  would  have  melted 
stone ;  but  he  did  not  appear  to  notice  me  at  all ; 
his  whole  soul  seemed  to  be  bound  up  in  that 
10 


218 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY    IN   AMERICA. 


swooning  woman  in  his  arms.  I  resolved  to 
have  an  explanation  of  such  conduct,  and  bore 
with  it  in  silence. 


When  we  reached  the  hotel,  he  himself  carried 
her  up  to  her  room,  and  gave  her  in  charge  of  a 
physician,  never  thinking  of  me,  whom  he 
actually  left  sitting  in  the  carriage.  Pa  came 
up,  and  took  me  out,  and  asked :  "  Are  you 
frightened,  my  posey?"  "No,"  said  I  indig- 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEEICA.  219 

nantly ;  "I  am  an  outraged  woman!"  For, 
indeed,  I  was  so  in  many  ways.  Not  only  liad 
my  feelings  been  injured,  but,  I  declare,  my 
pink  lawn  was  completely  ruined  by  that 
woman's  wet  clothes,  my  head-dress  was  all 
dishevelled  and  smashed,  and  all  my  perfumes 
and  rich  roses  were  gone.  I  looked  no  more  like 
Rosa  Matilda  Tallow,  the  envied  beauty  of  the 
morning,  than  the  willow  looks  like  the  oak.  "  I 
am  an  outraged  woman !"  I  cried  again ;  and 
don't  you  think  the  gentlemen  standing  around 
actually  laughed  out,  instead  of  coming  forward, 
as  I  expected  them  to  do,  to  resent  my  injured 
honor.  What  a  story  it  is  to  call  these  Ameri 
cans  "  brave  men,"  "  chivalrous  to  women  !" 
They  don't  understand  what  belongs  to  such  vir 
tue  and  dignity  as  they  know  we  possess.  Pa 
saw  how  it  was,  and  took  me  to  my  room,  mut 
tering  :  "  Outrageous  !  He  shall  pay  for  the 
dress,  and  account  to  me  for  all  other  damage." 
It  wasn't  that  I  cared  for,  but  my  injured  posi 
tion.  But,  dear  man,  he  didn't  seem  to  see 
things  in  the  same  light.  lie  was  a  little 
" tight,"  as  I  think  Noall  calls  it;  and  so  I  rushed 
to  my  room  to  have  a  big  cry;  for,  don't  you  see, 


220  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY  IN   AMEEICA. 

my  dear,  that  my  glowing  hopes  were  all  dashed, 
that  the  sun  of  my  morning  had  set  in  gloom  ? 

From  ma,  I  got  all  kinds  of  sympathy ;  and 
calling  pa- in,  we  held  a  "cabinet  council,"  as 
the  papers  say.  Ma  was  for  having  pa  go  and 
challenge  Noall  to  fight,  for  she  was  sure  he 
could  whip  the  spruce  Yankee ;  but  pa  says  he 
didn't  come  here  for  any  such  purpose  ;  and  he 
knew  that  that  man  had  too  much  grit  in  him  to 
stir  him  up.  He  said  the  best  way  was  to  pre 
serve  a  "  dignified  silence,"  becoming  people  of 
quality — that  only  the  law  wrould  talk  of 
revenge.  His  counsel  prevailed;  and  we  re 
solved  to  be  proud  and  independent.  After 
this,  we  found  him  promenading  up  and  down 
the  halls,  his  arms  folded ;  and  I  do  wish  you 
could  have  seen  him — he  looked  so  much  like 
the  Old  Duke.  But  he  don't  cease  to  swear 
awfully  when  he  comes  into  our  room,  for  his 
hopes  of  me  are  seriously  injured,  it  is  very 
apparent. 

Do  you  ask  about  Mr.  Noall?  The  wretch! 
He  never  sent  one  word  of  apology  to  me,  and 
did  not  show  himself,  doubtless  being  afraid  of 
meeting  pa.  After  tea,  I  could  not  restrain  my 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  221 

curiosity  to  learn  what  came  of  the  adventure 
with  Miss  Stanley ;  and  I  was  almost  dying  to 
know  what  his  familiarity  with  that  lady  meant. 
I  should  surely  think,  if  he  kissed  my  lips,  and 
put  my  hands  in  his  bosorn,  that  it  meant  some 
thing  •  and  don't  you  .think  so  too,  dear  ?  So  I 
stole  out  into  the  parlor,  looking  out  upon  the 
piazza,  where  Miss  Stanley  usually  sat;  and 
there,  sure  enough,  I  saw  her  and  Mr.  No  all,  sit 
ting  on  a  tete-a-tete,  in  a  low  conversation.  I 
could  not  be  mistaken ;  they  were  talking  in 
confidence ;  and  his  excited  manner,  and  her 
evident  earnestness,  told  the  whole  truth  and 
nothing  but  the  truth.  The  true  English  blood 
flew  through  my  veins  furiously,  or  as  pa  would 
say,  like  hot  tallow  into  the  molds,  and  with  true 
courage,  I  resolved  to  hear  for  myself.  So  I  stole 
up  to  the  window  close  by  them,  and,  shrouded 
in  the  curtain,  was  perfectly  safe  from  being  seen. 
What  did  I  not  hear !  Gracious  me !  Would  that 
I  could  forget  it !  My  ears  tingle  ;  my  heart  is 
like  a  boiling  caldron,  almost  running  over  ;  and 
what  I  have  told  pa  makes  him  so  mad  I  really 
fear  he  will  break  down  under  it. 

"  Ah,  but  you  were  very  harsh  and  cruel  to 
me !"  said  Miss  Stanley.      "  You   not  only  got 


222  THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

angry  for  nothing — for  the  young  man  who  took 
me  to  the  Chestnut  street  Theatre  was  Cousin 
George,  from  the  "West — but  you  went  so  far  as 
to  flirt  with  that  poor  English  girl" — (poor 
English  girl !  Just  think  of  that  insult,  my 
dear  !) — "  and  made  yourself  rather  notorious  for 
the  exclusiveness  of  your  devotion  to  her.  This 
I  call  trifling ;  and,  if  it  was  to  punish  me,  it  was 
done,  not  only  to  my  unhappiness,  but,  I  fear, 
to  the  unhappiness  of  another,  whose  simplicity" 
— (think  of  that  insult,  my  dear !) — "  Ought  to 
have  protected  her  from  your  advances."  All 
this  she  said  to  him  in  a  quiet  manner ;  and  I 
longed  to  reach  out  and  pull  her  nasty  hair  for 
the  epithets  she  bestowed  upon  your  own  Rosa 
Matilda. 

But,  if  I  was  angry  at  her  speech,  what  do  you 
think  I  was  at  his  ?  The  brute !  Just  hear  what 
he  said  :  "  I  own  that  I  was  hasty ;  and  I  ask  and 
pray  for  your  forgiveness.  I  was  told  that  the 
person  at  the  theatre  with  you,  and  with  whom 
you  seemed  so  familiar,  was  a  lieutenant  in  the 
army;  and  I  was  fired  with  jealousy  that  you 
should  show  any  but  me  such  civilities.  It  was 
very  wrong,  I  knew.  It  was  at  that  moment 
that  I  made  the  rash  resolve  to  punish  you  by 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMEEICA.  223 

boldness  and  flirtation,  and  have  therefore  fol 
lowed  you  the  rounds,  only  studying  means  to 
drown  my  own  chagrin  ;  for,  my  dear  Emma,  I 
knew  I  was  doing  you  injustice,  and  wanted  to 
say  so,  but  could  not.  It  was  that  which  made 
me  seize  upon  that  silly  English  girl" — (Hea 
vens  !  My  very  teeth  gritted  like  a  crazy  wo 
man's  at  that  speech.  Silly  !  Just  think  of  it !) 
— "  and  to  flirt  with  her.  She  and  her  parents 
are  such  consummate  snobs,  and  so  ignorant  of 
everything  American,  that  I  thought  the  lesson 
they  might  learn  from  an  experience  or  two  of 
the  proper  kind  could  do  them  no  hurt.  I  never 
did  the  silly  young  woman  any  harm,  I  am  sure. 
If  I  did,  I  can  repair  it  by  calling  on  them  to 
morrow  with  Lord  Napier,  who,  you  know,  is  to 
have  rooms  next  to  ours,  to-night." 

I  waited  to  hear  no  more,  and  flew  to  tell  pa  all 
I  had  heard ;  and  he  has  been  furious  ever  since. 
Ma  is  completely  stricken,  and  says  we  must 
leave,  to-rnorrow,  after  breakfast,  before  Napier 
is  out,  else  we  shall  be  subjected  to  still  greater 
mortification.  So,  while  ma  is  packing,  I  write 
to  you  to  tell  you  how  very  sick  I  am  of  this 
whole  country  and  the  people.  Of  one  thing  I 
am  very  certain — these  people  are  just  as  sharp 


224:  THE   TALLOW  FAMILY   IN   AMERICA. 

as  we  English ;  and,  when  we  think  we  are  great 
"  lions,"  they  are  only  making  fun,  and  see 
through  our  pretensions  as  easily  as  any  English 
man  could.  I  do  think  Dickens  wTas,  as  the 
Americans  say,  "  greatly  humbugged  " — what  a 
funny  word ! — and  that  they  laughed  in  their 
glasses  at  his  pretension  as  much  as  they  lawgh 
at  pa's.  Poor  pa  !  He  will  not  be  called  Sir 
Tudor  any  more. 

I  have  learned  a  great  deal  by  travelling; 
and  I  am  sure  none  of  us  will  put  on  airs  any 
more.  We  shall  travel  hereafter  in  a  respectable 
way,  but  give  ourselves  no  trouble  about  trying 
to  appear  among  the  best.  To-morrow  morning, 
we  leave  for  Boston,  where  pa  will  make  a 
heavy  purchase  of  tallow,  for  he  says  the  market 
here,  like  us,  is  "  down  ;"  and  he  is  going  to  in 
vest.  So  we  shall  .make  more  money  than  will 
cover  our  expenses. 

We  shall  return  by  the  15th  of  August  steamer. 
I  don't  like  to  go  to  ]STew  York  again,  but  sup 
pose  I  must,  for  it  is  there  wre  take  the  steamer. 
VvHien  I  get  home,  how  much  I  shall  have  to 
talk  about !  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  say  any 
thing  about  my  love  affair  to  pa's  clerk  !  for  now 
I  am  bound  to  have  him  ;  and  I  guess  ma  will 


THE   TALLOW   FAMILY   IN   AMERICA.  225 

not  interfere  any  more.  I  always  did  like  Mm ; 
but  you  may  keep  it  all  to  yourself.  Prepare, 
my  darling,  to  see  your  friend  about  the  28th. 
Until  then,  think  over  kindly  the  sorrows  and 
joys  of  your  ever  dear 

ROSA  MATILDA  TALLOW. 


10* 


LUCY   IN   THE    CITY. 


227 


LUCY   IN   THE    CITY. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

TVEIEKE,  now,  mother,  I  am  almost  ready  to 
sit  down  and  tell  you  all  about  it.  I  had 
to  run  out  and  milk  Sukey  first.  She  was  so  glad 
to  see  me !  and  so  were  the  chickens  and  old 
Brownie — but  not  more  glad  than  I  was  to  see 
them.  Three  weeks  seem  to  me  like  an  age. 
Let  me  put  away  those  tea-things — oh,  no,  I'm 
not  too  tired  ! — and  then  we  will  sit  down  in  the 
door  ;  and  you  may  knit,  and  I'll  talk — and  peel 
those  apples  too,  for  the  pies  to  be  made  in  the 
morning. 

Well,  you  know  father  saw  me  safely  in  the 
cars  after  we  got  to  Jacksonville,  and  put  my 
ticket  in  my  hand  to  give  the  conductor.  After 
he  had  shaken  hands  and  gone  out,  I  felt  almost. 


230  LUCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

like — crying  at  being  left  alone  among  so  many 
people,  and  the  bells  ringing,  and  the  locomotive 
screaming — such  a  horrible  noise,  mother !  You 
never  heard  it,  did  you?  But,  after  the  cars 
were  once  in  motion,  I  grew  quite  composed,  for 
no  one  seemed  to  mind  me  ;  and  I  felt  quite 
exhilarated  by  the  rapidity  with  which  we  flew 
along. 

I  suppose  you  thought  I  looked  very  nicely 
when  I  set  out — didn't  you,  mother  ? — with  the 
black  silk  dress  which  we  had  made  over,  and 
my  bonnet  newly  bleached  and  trimmed.  I'll 
confess  I  thought  I  was  rather  smartly  dressed ; 
but,  when  I  came  to  compare  myself  with  the 
ladies  whom  I  saw  about  me,  I  found  that  -coat- 
sleeves,  and  bonnets  large  enough  to  shadow  one's 
face,  were  out  of  date  ;  and  when  I  heard  a  hand 
some  girl  in  the  opposite  seat  whispering  "  Ante 
diluvian,"  with  a  very  amused  and  sarcastic  face, 
I  supposed  she  meant  me,  and  blushed  and 
fidgeted  awhile,  but  "finally  concluded  not  to 
mind  it. 

Every  little  while  the  train  would  stop  at 
stations  ;  and  people  would  get  on,  and  others 
off  the  cars ;  so  that  I  had  enough  to  keep  me 
interested.  The  women  looked  very  queer,  the 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  231 

most  of  them.  I  could  not  imagine  what  was 
the  matter  with  them,  and  finally  studied  it  out 
that  they  had  on  some  kind  of  car  life-preservers ; 
so  that,  if  there  was  a  collision,  they  would  be 
in  less  danger  of  being  crushed.  This  made  me 
uneasy,  because  I  had  none ;  yet  they  looked  so 
ugly,  that  I  was  almost  willing  to  run  the  risk 
of  one  ride  without  such  a  preserver.  By  and 
by,  I  began  to  grow  uneasy  about  uncle's  being 
at  the  cars  to  meet  me.  I  did  not  know  what  to 
do  in  case  he.  should  be  kept,  for  I  had  forgotten 
the  number  of  his  house,  which  he  had  been  so 
particular  to  give  me.  So  when  the  conductor 
came  for  my  ticket,  I  asked  him  if  he  knew 
Ebenezer  Wilmot,  and,  if  he  did,  if  he  would 
please  to  tell  me  what  the  number  of  his  residence 
was.  He  smiled,  and  said  that  he  did  not  recol 
lect  him.  I  told  him  I  thought  he  must  know 
him,  for  he  had  lived  in  New  York  a  great 
many  years,  and  that  his.  house  was  in  Union 
Place ;  but  I  had  forgotten  the  number.  He 
replied  that  there  wrere  a  great  many  persons  in 
the  city ;  and  he  was  not  personally  acquainted 
with  all  of  them.  Again  I  saw  the  young  lady 
opposite  me  smile,  and  look  at  me  from  head  to 
foot.  I  am  sure  I  thought  it  rather  strange  that 


232  LTJCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

he  should  never  have  heard  of  an  old  citizen  so 
wealthy  and  respectable  as  Uncle  Eben.  So  I 
asked  him,  then,  if  my  uncle  was  not  at  the 
station  waiting  for  me,  if  he  would  see  my  trunk 
safely  out  of  the  baggage-car,  and  put  it  with 
me  into  an  omnibus,  describing  the  trunk  to 
him  as  well  as  I  could ;  but  he  seemed  in 
haste  to  get  away,  and  told  me  to  give  my 
checks  to  an  omnibus  man ;  and  he  would 
attend  to  my  baggage,  and  drive  me  where  I 
wanted  to  go. 

I  was  just  as  uneasy  on  the  subject  as  ever, 
when  the  train  stopped,  and  everybody  jumped 
from  their  seats,  and  caught  up  their  shawls, 
carpet-bags,  bundles,  babies,  etc.,  and  I  with  the 
rest — though,  mercy,  it  didn't  seem  as  if  we  could 
be  half  way  to  New  York  yet !  Only  four  hours 
to  come  almost  a  hundred  miles !  Old  Brownie 
wouldn't  have  carried  us  more  than  sixteen 
miles,  and  would  have  thought  that  he  had  done 
well,  then. 

I  got  all  mixed  up  in  the  crowd,  and  had  to 
go  along,  whether  I  wanted  to  or  not,  though  I 
tried  to  stop,  and  look  about  for  my  uncle,  and 
to  go  and  see  about  my  trunk.  "  Please  don't 
push  me  so,"  I  said  to  a  large,  fat  woman,  who 


LUCY    IN   THE    CITY.  233 

was  almost  running  over  me.  "I  want  to  go 
back,  and  get  my  trunk." 

"Run  along,  you  little  fool !  You'll  find  your 
trunk  on  the  ferry-boat,"  was  her  polite  rejoinder. 
And  I  did  as  I  was  bid,  because  I  could  not  do 
anything  else.  Sure  enough,  when  I  got  on  the 
boat  that  takes  the  passengers  over  into  the 
city,  I  saw  a  monstrous  wagon  full  of  baggage  ; 
and,  going  up,  I  gave  the  man  my  check ;  and 
he  set  my  trunk  off;  and  I  sat  down  on  it  to 
keep  it  safe.  I  was  glad  enough  to  see  uncle's 
smiling  face,  the  moment  the  boat  touched  the 
wharf ;  and  it  did  not  take  him  long,  with  his 
quick,  keen  eyes,  to  find  me  out.  "All,  ha, 
little  daisy  ;  here  you  are,  fresh  from  the  clover 
fields !"  he  cried,  as  he  came  up  and  kissed  me 
right  before  everybody ;  but  I  was  so  glad  to  see 
him  again,  I'm  sure  I  didn't  care.  "  I  meant  tc 
have  come  down  early  enough  to  cross  over,  and 
meet  you  at  the  cars.  You  were  not  afraid, 
were  you  ?" 

"  A  little,  Uncle  Eben ;  but  I  got  along  very 
well." 

"Well,  you're  all  right  now,  my  dear.  Got 
your  baggage?  Ah!  this  is  all,  is  it?  Here, 
Washington,  put  this  in  the  carriage." 


234:  LUCY    IN    THE    CITY. 

A  negro  man,  dressed  a  great  deal  nicer  than 
father  is  on  Sundays,  stepped  forward,  and 
picked  up  my  poor  little  hair-trunk  with  a  look 
of  curiosity  and  contempt,  which  I  saw  very 
plainly.  "  Better  get  a  cartman  tote  dis  trash,"  I 
heard  him  grumble  under  his  breath.  "  Massa 
has  no  respeck  for  de  position  of  his  coachman." 

Uncle  helped  me  into  his  carriage;  and  we 
were  driven  along  at  a  cautious  rate  through 
such  a  jam.  Why,  I  expected  we  should  be  run 
into  on  every  side !  We  went  through  Broad 
way,  that  you  and  I  have  read  so  much  about. 
The  noise,  and  crowd,  and  splendid  buildings 
•were  more  than  I  had  expected ;  and,  though  we 
were  more  than  an  hour  reaching  the  house,  I 
was  not  a  bit  tired.  I  should  not  have  known 
whether  we  had  been  on  the  way  one  hour  or 
ten,  I  was  so  absorbed  in  looking,  and  in  listen 
ing,  too,  for  dear  uncle  talked  all  the  way,  and 
explained  everything. 

I  was  almost  afraid  to  go  up  the  fioe  marble 
steps,  when  we  at  last  got  out  of  the  carriage. 
You've  never  been  at  Uncle  Eben's,  have  you, 
mother,  since  he  had  his  last  house  built?  It 
seemed  as  if  even  my  best  morocco  slippers 
were  not  nice  enough  to  step  upon  the  carpet  in 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  235 

the  parlors.  I  thought  of  the  rag  one  which 
you  and  I  made  with  so  much  labor,  and  were 
so  pleased  with  when  we  got  it  down  in  the  front 
room.  Uncle  rang  a  bell;  and  a  mulatto  girl 
came  to  the  door. 

"  Show  Miss  Wilmot  to  her  room ;  and  help 
her  to  anything  she  wants,"  he  said. 

Miss  Angeline  looked  at  me  from  head  to  foot, 
and  was  about  to  giggle;  but,  catching  her 
master's  eye,  she  suddenly  grew  more  polite. 
"  Step  dis  way,  if  you  please,"  she  said.  And, 
as  I  followed  her,  uncle  told  me  that,  by  the  time 
I  had  rested  a  few  moments,  and  washed  the 
dust  from  my  face  and  hands,  tea  would  be 
ready. 

My  chamber  was  almost  as  nice  as  the  parlor 
— the  most  beautiful  curtains,  and  carpet,  and 
chairs,  and  a  great  mirror,  and  so  many  little 
things  on  the  toilet  table  which  I  did  not  know 
the  use  of.  The  colored  girl  stood  in  the  centre 
of  the  room,  and  watched  me  as  I  took  off  my 
bonnet  and  gloves,  and  then  made  a  show  of 
putting  them  away  for  me ;  but  I  could  see  very 
well  that  she  thought  me  a  great  curiosity.  I 
began  to  feel  that  I  was  a  worse  ignoramus  than 
I  had  supposed  ;  but  I  did  not  choose  to  be 


236 


LUCY   IN    THE    CITY. 


laughed  at  by  a  servant;  so  I  sat  down,  and 
looked  at  her,  a  moment,  quite  steadily,  and  then 
told  her  she  might  leave ;  I  did  not  need  her  ser 
vices  at  present. 


"  "Well,  ring  when  you  do,  mum.  I  suppose 
you  know  dat  by  pulling  dis  here  circumfluous 
knob,  you  cause  de  ringing  to  divert  my  atten 
tion  from  de  regions  I  may  be  occupyinV 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  237 

And,  with  a  superb  courtesy,  she  backed  out  of 
the  door,  which  she  could  not  get  through  with 
one  effort,  she  was  so  puffed  and  swelled  out 
with  that  mysterious  arrangement  which  had 
attracted  my  attention  in  the  cars,  and  which  I 
now  saw  could  not  be  a  life-preserver. 

I  brushed  the  dust  off  me,  and  bathed  my  face 
and  hands,  and  smoothed  my  curls,  taking  pains 
to  have  them  very  nice,  because  I  knew  uncle 
liked  them.  I  could  see  my  whole  figure  in  the 
mirror;  and  I  must  confess  I  was  not  quite  so 
contented  with  my  old  black  silk  as  I  was  when 
I  left  home.  The  girl  had  on  a  better  one,  and  a 
dozen  little  fixings  besides,  that  I  should  have 
thought  good  enough  for  a  party.  However, 
there  was  no  help  for  it ;  and  I  was  glad  that 
Uncle  Eben  was  an  old  bachelor,  and  had  no 
finnified  wife  and  daughters  to  be  mortified  at 
their  country  cousin.  "  I  will  stay  altogether  in 
the  house,"  I  thought,  "  and  not  put  him  to  the 
blush  by  my  ignorance  of  city  fashions.  lie 
will  like  me  just  as  I  am."  Comforted  by  this 
conclusion,  I  went  down  into  the  parlors,  and 
found  him  awaiting  me,  sitting  in  a  great  velvet- 
cushioned  chair.  He  pulled  me  into  his  lap, 
just  as  if  I  was  still  a  little  girl.  "Little 


238  LUCY   IN  THE   CITY. 

Daisy's  curls  are  as  bright  as  ever,  and  lier  eyes 
and  lier  cheeks,"  he  said,  pinching  my  face  until 
I  am  sure  it  must  have  been  rosy  enough. 
"  That  comes  of  milking  the  cows,  and  running 
in  the  meadows,  and  living  on  peaches  and 
cream,  I  suppose ;  hey,  little  girl  ?" 

"I  suppose  it  does,  uncle.  Just  look  at  my 
hands,  how  brown  they  are  !  But  why  do  you 
x?all  me  little  ?  I  am  seventeen,  now." 

You  ought  to  have  heard  him  laugh !  I  grew 
quite  confused,  and  was  'afraid  he  would  think 
me  foolish. 

"  You  are,  are  you  ?  And  I'm  not  to  call  you 
my  little  puss,  or  my  little  daisy,  or  my  little 
Lucy  any  more  ?  You  have  grown  tall  since  I 
saw  you.  But  you  are  not  so  very  large  yet. 
Bless  you,  you  are  not  a  young  lady,  I  hope  !  I 
hate  young  ladies.  If  you  had  a  hoop  on,  now, 
I  could  not  have  you  in  my  lap,  nor  get  near 
enough  to  you  to  kiss  you." 

"  "What  is  a  hoop,  uncle?" 

"  Bless  my  soul !  A  hoop  ?  Why,  it's  a  pro 
digious  circle,  an  immense  balloon — bones — 
crinoline — a  skeleton — a  what-not — a — in  short, 
a  petticoat  of  a  new  fashion.  Don't  you  take 
the  magazines?  I'll  show  you  what  it  is  to- 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  239 

morrow,  when  we  go  out  to  walk.  I'll  show 
you  crinoline  in  perfection." 

"Was  that  a  hoop  that  made  your  servant 
look  so  like  a  big  yellow  pumpkin  with  a  little 
black  stem,  uncle  ?"  • 

"Yes,  my  dear.  The  encroachments  of  the 
other  sex  upon  our  rights  are  getting  to  be  intol- 
lerable.  Yesterday,  I  happened  to  get  squeezed 
in  between  two  ladies  in  an  omnibus ;  and  only 
a  small  part  of  my  nose  was  visible.  I  was 
afraid  I  would  never  come  to  light  again ;  but 
one  of  the  fair  ones  departed ;  and  I  emerged  to 
view  nauch  to  the  surprise  of  an  old  lady  who 
was  sitting  opposite.  c  Sakes  alive  P  she  ex 
claimed;  'was  you  in  there?5  And  then  the 
men  laughed ;  but  the  women  did  not  blush. 
They  do  not  know  how,  now-a-days." 

I  laughed,  too,  at  Uncle  Eben's  story,  and  at 
his  railing  at  the  women ;  and  then  we  wTent  into 
his  library,  where  he  had  ordered  the  tea  to  be 
served ;  and  we  had  a  cozy  supper  all  to  our 
selves,  with  only  one  waiter,  who  did  not 
embarrass  me  much.  I  believe  my  dear  mother 
has  taught  me  the  principles  upon  which  polite 
ness  is  founded;  and,  for  the  rest,  I  used  my 
wits  and  my  eyes,  when  there  was  anything  new. 


24:0  LTTCY    IN"   THE    CITY. 

I  had  a  delightful  evening.  Uncle  offered  to 
take  me  to  the  opera,  or  to  see  the  Ravels ;  but 
I  was  too  tired  to  care  to  go  out  the  first  night ; 
so  he  showed  me  over  his  house,  and  played  the 
piano  for  me,  told  me  the  names  and  subjects  of 
the  beautiful  pictures  on  the  walls,  and  did  all 
he  could  to  amuse  me.  I  do  think  he  is  the  best 
old  bachelor  uncle  in  the  world,  mother ;  don't 
you? 

Before  I  left  him  for  my  room,  he  told  me  that 
he  had  invitations  out  for  a  party,  to  come  off 
the  very  next  evening.  He  said  he  had  asked 
me  to  come  at  this  time  on  purpose  to  have  me 
present ;  and  he  had  made  it  a  fancy  dress  party 
in  order  to  have  me  play  the  character  which  he 
had  chosen  for  me.  It  was  the  first  party  since 
his  acquaintances  had  come  back  from  the  water 
ing-places  ;  and  he  meant  to  have  it  very  fine. 

u  Oh,  uncle !"  I  cried,  in  dismay,  "  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  meet  so  many  people  !  And  I 
have  no  dress  that  is  fit.  Indeed — indeed,  I 
must  keep  hidden  in  my  room  !" 

"You  must  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  Your 
name  is  on  the  cards  of  invitation.  I  made  the 
ball  on  purpose  for  you.  Have  you  no  festival 
dress  at  all  in  that  little  hair-trunk  you  brought?" 


LUCY   IN  THE   CITY. 

"  Nothing  but  a  white  mull  that  has  been  done 
up  a  dozen  times.  It  is  tucked ;  and  I  thought 
it  very  pretty  before  I  came  here.  Mother 
ironed  it  nicely  for  me;  but  I  am  sure  now, 
uncle,  that  you  would  not  let  me  wear  it." 

"  Yes,  I  will,  and  shall  insist  upon  it.  It  is 
just  what  I  expected  you  would  have ;  and  I 
should  have  been  disappointed  if  you  had  fixed 
up  anything  more  splendid.  There,  puss,  you 
begin  to  look  tired  and  a  little  sleepy.  Go  to 
bed,  and  dream  that  you  will  be  the  prettiest 
girl  at  the  ball  to-morrow." 

I  should  have  thought  he  was  quizzing  me  if  I 
had  not  known  that  he  really  loved  me,  and 
would  not  hart  my  feelings  for  the  world.  So  I 
kissed  him  good-night,  and  went  to  bed,  but  not 
to  sleep  for  some  time.  I  was  excited  by  my 
journey,  what  I  had  seen,  and  what  I  had  got  to 
see.  However,  I  was  awake  in  the  morning, 
and  up  and  dressed  two  hours  before  I  heard  any 
stir  in  the  house ;  and  I  had  grown  actually  hun 
gry  before  breakfast  was  servejl. 

After  breakfast,  I  saw  some  preparation,  but 

not  half  so  much  stir  as  we  should  have  made 

for  a  common  tea  party.     The  waiter  was  busy 

with  the  silver  and   glass   in  the  dining-room; 

11 


LUCY   IN  THE   CITY. 

and  the  parlors  were  being  dusted,  and  some 
fancy  lights  arranged;  and  I  suppose  there  was 
an  extra  servant  or  two  in  the  kitchen. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  uncle  asked  me  if  I  did 
not  want  to  go  down  town,  and  do  a  little  shop 
ping,  saying  he  would  like  to  show  me  the  fash 
ionable  stores  ;  and  we  might  stop  at  the  Dussel- 
dorf  Gallery  on  our  way  back.  I  told  him  that 
you  had  given  me  ten  dollars  for  spen  ding- 
money  ;  but  I  had  not  decided  what  I  should  get 
with  it  yet.  I  had  just  had  my  bonnet  bleached 
and  trimmed,  and  was  not  really  in  need  of  any 
thing. 

"  Not  in  need  of  anything !"  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  wonder  if  there  is  another  woman  in  the  city 
so  well  off  as  that !  You'll  make  a  good  wife 
for  some  man,  my  dear.  But  run,  and  put  on 
that  aforesaid  bonnet  which  has  been  '  bleached 
and  trimmed ' — how  many  times,  Daisy  ?" 

"  Three,  Uncle  Eben.  But  I  do  not  like  to  go 
out  with  you.  You  have  so  many  fine  acquaint 
ances;  and  you  will  be  so  ashamed  when  you 
meet  them,  with  such  a  queer,  old-fashioned  lit 
tle  girl  by  your  side  !" 

"Who  told  you  you  were  queer  and  old- 
fashioned  ?  Have  you  found  that  out  already  ? 


LUCY    IN    THE   CITY.  243 

"Well,  your  waiting-maid,  Angelina,  is  a  very 
good  imitation  of  my  ~bon  ton  lady  friends,  in  the 
way  of  dress,  and  manners,  too,  perhaps.  Do 
you  already  aspire  to  be  like  her  ?  When  I  am 
ashamed  of  my  rustic  blossom,  she  shall  first 
have  given  me  some  real  cause." 

I  thought  if  uncle,  who  knew  so  well,  didn't 
care,  that  I  needn't ;  and  so  I  tied  on  my  bonnet 
quite  gaily ;  and  we  started  out. 

I  wonder  if  all  old  bachelors  are  like  uncle, 
mother? — he  has  such  strange  ways  of  saying 
things,  and  is  so  sarcastic,  sometimes,  in  spite  of 
his  good  nature  and  his  real  kindness.  I  hardly 
knew  what  to  make  of  his  talk,  at  first,  as  we 
went  along,  I  stumbling  over  people,  almost,  in 
my  eagerness  to  use  my  eyes ;  but  at  last  I 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  it,  I  guess. 

"  So  we  are  going  a  shopping,  are  we  ?"  he 
begun.  "I've  a  little  silly  female  friend,  a 
married  lady,  who  informs  me  that  shopping  is 
quite  an  art,  much  cultivated  and  prized  by  her 
associates ;  and,  from  what  I  have  observed,  I 
should  think  it  must  be  so.  In  fact,  I  should 
think  it  might  almost  be  called  one  of  the  fine- 
arts.  As  our  fair  ladies  are  not  altogether  desti 
tute  of  talent,  and  have  no  other  means  of 


244  LUCY  IN  THE   CITY. 

exhibiting  it,  it  is  natural  that  they  should  seek 
the  only  avenue  open  for  a  useful  and  agreeable 
employment  of  the  faculties  which  their  Creator 
has  bestowed.  Upon  every  fine  day,  you  will 
see  the  most  fashionable  thoroughfares  of  the 
city  brilliant  with  the  gay  creatures,  fluttering 
about,  happy  in  their  favorite  purs'uit.  They 
purchase,  and  purchase,  and  purchase  everything 
recommended  by  the  ineffable  young  men 
making  their  Jco-tows  (that's  Chinese  for  grand 
salaams,  my  dear)  behind  the  counter,  until  their 
purses  are  emptied,  and  the  patience  of  their 
husbands  exhausted ;  but  this  does  not  dampen 
their  ardor  in  the  least.  Yesterday,  I  overheard 
two  elegant  creatures  conversing  something  in 
this  wise : 

" '  What  do  you  propose  buying  to-day,  my 
,  dear  2'" 

" { Oh,  I  do  not  know,  my  sweetest !  I  spent 
all  my  allowance  yesterday.  But  we  can  look  at 
the  lovely  things,  you  know.  And,  if  the  mer 
chants  get  out  of  patience,  we  can  purchase  a 
skein  of  silk  or  a  spool  of  floss.' 

" '  But  you  know  they  never  get  out  of 
patience.  I  spent  four  hours,  the  other  day, 
looking  at  the  dear,  delicious  laces  and  shawls  at 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  245 

Alltherage's,  after  I  had  mine  for  the  season ; 
and  I  took  nothing ;  yet  that  elegant  Slimwaist, 
who  shows  them,  smiled  as  graciously  when  he 
bowed  me  out  as  when  I  came  in.  What  white 
teeth  he  has  !  hasn't  he  ?  Let's  go  in  there  now. 
I  heard,  last  evening,  that  s*ome  charming  tissues 
had  arrived.  By  the  way,  love,  I  have  been 
told  something  so  curious! — that  the  spines  of 
shopkeepers  were  made  of  caoutchouc,  and  their 
tempers  of  the  same.' 

"  '  Ah,  how  queer !  I've  got  some  tissue 
paper  stuffed  in  my  purse,  and  some  gilt  but 
tons.' 

"  '  Oh,  it's  so  agreeable  to  shop  !  I  wish  there 
was  nothing  else  in  the  world  to  do.  But  I  must 
be  home  in  three  hours.  My  husband  is  going 
to  Europe ;  and  he  asked  me  to  be  at  home  to 
dinner,  to  bid  him  good  bye.  It's  such  a  bore  to 
bid  your  friends  farewell !' 

"  '  Husbands  are  getting  to  be  so  exacting  !' 

"  I  tried  to  lag,  so  as  not  to  be  compelled  to 
play  listener ;  but,  as  they  warmed  with  their 
subject,  their  own  steps  lessened ;  and  I  do  not 
know  how  much  I  might  have  gathered,  if  I  had 
not  turned  aside  in  desperation,  and  darted  into 
a  bazaar,  where  I  stumbled  among  a  whole 


246  LUCY   IN   THE   CITY 

crowd  of  butterflies  fluttering  about  a  garden  of 
gay  tissues,  and  Slimwaist  himself,  thrown  into 
an  admiring  attitude,  gazing  ecstatically  upon  a 
strip  of  faded  leaf-colored  something,  which  he 
had  gathered  into  airy  folds,  and  was  gently 
waving  to  display  its  beauties.  I  felt  almost 
tempted  to  advise  him  to  don  the  airy  vesture  he 
so  elegantly  recommended,  and  so  fully  appreci 
ated  ;  but,  upon  glancing  at  the  slight  moustache, 
whose  glossy  curves  it  would  have  been  a  pity 
to  sacrifice,  I  refrained,  and  made  my  exit, 
encountering  at  the  door  the  lovely  feminines  to 
whose  soft  conversation  I  had  unwillingly  been 
a  confidant.  I  do  not  know  if  these  beautiful 
creatures  have  ever  heard  that '  time  is  money.' 
If  so,  they  must  pay  a  double  price  for  what  is 
already  dear  enough.  My  friend,  Bulbul  I  call 
her,  describes  the  fascinations  of  shopping  as 
irresistible — quite  equal  to  the  catching  of  hus 
bands — and  a  good  substitute  for  every  sensible 
employment ;  and  I  take  the  sweet  lady's  word 
for  it,  and  tell  you  as  'twas  told  to  me,  my  art 
less  Daisy." 

We  had  now  got  down  into  a  more  crowded 
part  of  the  city ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  cease 
preaching;  but  his  air  was  so  funny,  when  he 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  247 

imitated  the  ladies,  that  I  could  not  help  laugh 
ing.  "  There,  uncle !  I  suppose  these  are  some 
of  your- patrons  of  shopkeepers,"  I  said,  as  a 
couple  of  women  fluttered  past  us,  with  their 
purses  hanging  from  their  fingers,  and  little  bou 
quets  on  the  back  of  their  heads  for  bonnets, 
and  flounces  that  spread  out  like  a  wide-open 
fan.  You  ought  to  have  seen  them,  mother. 
Uncle  told  me  they  had  a  thousand  dollars' 
worth  of  finery  apiece  upon  them,  just  for  a 
morning  promenade.  "They  bowed  to  you, 
didn't  they  ?" 

"  Yes,  Lucy ;  I  expect  to  meet  half  my  lady 
friends  out,  this  morning,  making  some  last  pur 
chases  for  my  ball  to-night.  The  cards  have 
been  out  ten  days ;  and  they  regard  it  as  a  great 
affair.  But  don't  be  afraid  of  their  knowing 
you.  They  think  Miss  Lucy  Wilmot  is  a  very 
different  person ;  and,  besides,  they  cannot  see 
your  face  in  that  bonnet." 

"  Oh,  uncle  1"  But  he  did  not  heed  my  tone 
of  reproach. 

"  Here,  puss,  here  we  are  at  Stewart's.  We'll 
go  in,  and  look  at  the  things.  They  will  be  very 
polite  to  me,  and  not  expect  you  to  buy.  I  don't 
suppose  you  would  find  it  possible  to  expend  all 


24:8  LUCY   IN    THE   CITY. 

your  money  in  so  small  an  establishment,  if  you 
felt  disposed." 

It  was  so  much  like  a  fairy  palace,  that  I  for 
got  to  be  embarrassed  by  the  splendid  things  or 
the  splendid  persons  about  me,  any  more  than  as 
if  they  had  been  enchanted  people  that  I  was 
seeing  by  the  light  of  Aladdin's  lamp.  I  fol 
lowed  Uncle  Eben  from  department  to  depart 
ment,  and  examined  things  it  took  my  breath 
away  to  hear  the  price  of.  When  we  were  look 
ing  at  the  silks,  I  saw  one  piece  of  small  blue 
and  white  plaid  that  was  so  pretty.  I  almost 
sighed  for  the  power  to  purchase  it.  *  It  looked 
almost  modest  enough  for  my  small  means.  I 
just  said  to  uncle  that  I  thought  it  sweet. 
"  That  would  certainly  be  becoming  to  my  little 
girl,"  said  he,  and  ordered  the  salesman  to  cut 
off  a  dress  pattern ;  and,  while  I  was  wondering 
what  it  meant,  he  took  out  his  purse,  and  paid 
for  it.  1  expect  I  looked  delightful,  for  he 
laughed,  and  called  me  a  true  child  of  Mother 
Eve.  Oh,  dear,  but  didn't  I  want  to  ask  him  if 
it  could  not  possibly  be  made  up  by  evening ! 
But  I  did  not  dare  to.  "  "What  makes  so  many 
ladies  look  at  me  ?"  I  asked,  when  at  last  1  came 
to  my  senses  enough  to  feel  self-conscious. 


LUCY  IN   THE   CITY.  249 

"  I  suppose  it's  because  your  dress  is  small, 
and  your  bonnet  large,  and  your  sleeves  tight, 
Daisy." 

"  But  why  do  you  want  me  to  wear  such  a 
dress  to-night,  uncle  ?" 

c<  Oh,  it's  just  a  whim  of  mine  !  Nobody  will 
find  fault  with  it,  be  sure.  My  distinguished 
niece,  Miss  Lucy  "Wilmot,  is  going  to  act  in  the 
character  of  the  c  Country  Girl,'  you  know." 

I  wanted  to  visit  the  Gallery  ;  but,  as  we  were 
rather  later  than  we  expected,  and  uncle  had  to 
go  somewhere  to  see  about  his  bouquets  for  the 
vases  and  tables,  we  were  obliged  to  defer  it. 
You're  a  little  sleepy,  aren't  you,  mother  ?  and  I 
am,  too  ;  so  I'll  tell  you  about  the  party  in  the 
morning. 


11* 


CHAPTEE    II. 

W HEIST  we  got  back  to  the  house,  I  asked 
Uncle  Eben  if  he  did  not  wish  me  to  do 
something  to  be  useful.  1  told  him  I  was  a  first- 
rate  cake-baker,  and  would  make  some  for  him, 
if  he  desired.  He  said  he  had  ordered  everything 
from  his  confectioner's ;  I  might  tell  him  where 
the  flowers  would  look  best  when  they  should 
come ;  but  he  could  not  think  of  anything  else  I 
could  do. 

Toward  night,  there  were  half-a-dozen  ele 
gantly  dressed  gentlemen  made  their  appearance 
in  the  hall ;  and  I-  thought,  at  first,  that  it  was 
some  of  the  party  folks  come  unexpectedly 
early ;  but  they  turned  out  to  be  waiters  sup 
plied  by  the  confectioner.  About  an  hour 
afterward,  uncle  called  me  to  look  at  the  table 
which  had  been  set  in  the  dinning-room  by 
these  assistants.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  it, 
mother !  It  would  have  made  our  pumpkin-pies 
blush,  and  put  our  best  frosted  seed-cake  out  of 

250 


LUCY  IN   THE  CITY.  251 

countenance.  Our  roast  turkeys  might  have 
held  their  own,  though/ 1  guess.  There  were 
plenty  of  delicate  dishes  of  which  I  did  not  know 
the  name,  and  beautiful  ornamental  devices. 
The  table  glittered  with  silver,  and  crystal,  and 
china ;  and  there  were  beautiful  flowers  which 
came  from  the  hot-house,  and  cost  more  than  I 
dare  tell  you.  The  gas  was  lighted  in  all  the 
burners,  to  try'  the  effect  upon  the  table ;  and 
the  genteel  serving-men  were  standing  in  critical 
attitudes  surveying  it. 

"Oh,  how  beautiful!"  I  exclaimed.  "But, 
uncle,  it  is  really  getting  dark  out  of  doors ;  and 
I  have  not  begun  to  dress  yet." 

"It's  just  six  o'clock,"  said  he,  looking  at  his 
watch.  "  We've  had  nothing  but  a  lunch  since 
breakfast.  There's  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  quiet 
little  dinner  waiting  for  us  in  the  basement 
dining-room.  Let's  go  down  and  refresh  our 
selves.  You  can  eat  in  peace,  little  one,  and 
take  a  siesta  afterward.  Not  a  guest  will  we 
see  until  ten  o'clock." 

"  Why,  uncle,"  said  I,  laughing,  "  I  shall  be 
ready  for  bed  by  that  time !  Why  don't  you 
have  your  party  the  next  day  after  the  one 
set?" 


252  LUCY   IN"   THE   CITY. 

"  There's  only  one  sin  more  deadly  than  being 
out  of  fashion,  and  that's  to  be  poor,  my  dear. 
It's  the  fashion  to  try  and  be  the  last  at  an 
assembly.  I'm  the  only  one  in  my  circle  that 
dares  to  do  as  he  pleases.  They  call  me  vulgar, 
strange,  an  old  fogy,  absurd,  ridiculous,  etc. ; 
but  I  am  very  rich,  little  one  ;  and  so  they  smile 
upon  my  *  bachelor's  whims,'  and  pat  my  rough 
coat  as  if  it  were  the  sleekest  silk  that  any  lady's 
lap-dog  ever  wore.  The  belles  are  teasing  me, 
now,  to  move  further  up  town,  perhaps  with  the 
hope  that  some  one  of  them  may  be  invited  to 
become  the  mistress  of  the  new  establishment. 
Then  wouldn't  they  put  poor  Uncle  Eben  under 
their  dainty  thumb,  and  make  him  keep  his 
place  ?" 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  live  in  the  city,  I  be 
lieve,"  I  said. 

"  And  I  wouldn't  like  to  have  you,  my  little 
Daisy.  Now,  if  you  have  finished  your  dinner, 
you  may  go  to  your  room,  and  sleep  an  hour,  for 
you  must  be  tired  with  the  excitements  of  the 
day ;  and  I  do  not  want  you  to  look  sleepy  by 
and  by.  I  will  have  Angelica  call  you  at  eight 
o'clock ;  and  you  can  be  down  before  nine ;  for 
I  know  it  doesn't  take  you  half  a  night  to  make 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  253 

your  toilet.  There  is  neither  arsenic,  nor  rouge, 
nor  lily-white,  padding,  India-ink,  or  belladonna 
upon  your  toilet-table.  You  don't  require  much 
making  up.  Only  be  sure  and  get  down  where 
I  can  criticise  your  appearance  before  the  guests 
begin  to  arrive." 

I  kissed  him,  and  went  up-stairs.  I  guess 
Uncle  Eben  does  not  know  as  much  about  the 
feminine  heart  as  he  thinks  he  does,  if  he  expect 
ed  me  to  sleep  on  the  eve  of  such  a  grand  affair, 
and  my  first  appearance  in  city  society.  1  was 
so  excited  that  I  could  not  close  my  eyes ;  and, 
as  soon  as  Angelica  wrent  out  of  the  room,  I 
sprang  off  the  bed,  and,  going  to  the  wardrobe, 
took  out  my  dress,  and  spread  it  on  the  bed, 
with  all  the  articles  I  expected  to  wear.  I  could 
not  help  thinking  they  looked  very  pretty.  I 
had  bought  a  new  blue  waist-ribbon,  and  one 
for  my  hair. 

After  awhile,  I  took  \f\j  hair  down,  and  stood 
brushing  it  out  a  long  time ;  then  I  curled  it  into 
long  curls,  two  rows,  all  around  my  head,  the 
way  you  like  it  best,  mother  ;  then  I  put  on  my 
checked  stockings,  and  kid  slippers,  my  ruffled 
dimity  petticoat,  and,  lastly,  my  mull  dress, 
that  my  kind  mother  had  ironed  so  nicely  that  it 


254-  LTJCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

looked  as  fresh  as  new.  I  fastened  my  sash 
with  that  little  pearl  buckle  you  gave  me  on  iny 
•«ast  birthday,  twisted  the  ribbon  through  my 
curls,  and,  by  the  time  Angelica  came  to  call 
-  me,  I  was  ready  to  go  down. 

I  found  Uncle  Eben  lounging  on  a  sofa,  sound 
asleep.  So  I  stole  around,  and  looked  at  the 
beautiful  rooms  all  brilliantly  lighted  up,  and 
then  came  back,  and  pinched  him  awake.  "Will 
I  do  ?"  I  asked,  as  he  arose  and  rubbed  his  eyes. 

"  Fair  as  a  snowdrop  !  You  will  do,  exactly. 
I  will  tell  you,  now,  how  to  behave.  Just  stay 
by  my  side  until  the  company  are  pretty  well 
gathered  in,  and  act  your  own  modest  little  self ; 
that's  all.  Everybody  else  here,  to-night,  will 
assume  a  character.  You  have  only  to  retain 
your  own.  Now,  sit  down  here,  and  tell  me  how 
you  have  passed  the  time  since  I  paid  you  that 
flying  visit,  last  year.  I  see,  by  your  flushed 
cheeks,  that  you  are  a  little  flustered.  Take 
time,  now,  and  keep  steady." 

I  was  just  in  the  midst  of  our  winter's  singing- 
school,  when  the  bell  rang,  and  we  heard  people 
fluttering  softly  up  and  down  the  stairs.  Pretty 
soon,  they  began  to  be  announced.  Oh,  dear, 
there's  no  use  trying !  I  cannot  tell  you  half  the 


LUCY    IN   THE    CITY.  255 

people  who  were  introduced  to  me  in  the  next 
two  hours — about  all  the  characters  we  have  ever 
read  of — kings,  queens,  shepherdesses,  Paul  Prys, 


gipsies,  Nights,  Mornings,  Joan  of  Arcs,  fairies, 
crusaders,  belles  of  every  century,  Oberons,  Tita- 
nias,  and  Billy  Bottoms.  Dresses  more  magni- 


256  LUCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

ficent  and  persons  more  beautiful  than  I  ever 
dreamed  of,  were  there.  Everybody  smiled 
upon  me,  and  said  something  pleasant  to  me  ; 
and,  by  and  by,  I  forgot  all  about  my  own  dress 
and  appearance,  and  just  abandoned  myself  to 
enjoyment.  The  sweetest  music  began  to  play  ; 
and  a  young  gentleman,  dressed  as  a  Scottish 
chieftain,  came  and  asked  me  to  dance.  I  smiled, 
and  asked  him  if  it  was  the  Highland  Fling,  and 
then  told  him  I  must  refuse  him,  because  I  could 
dance  nothing  but  country  dances. 

"  But  will  you  not  lay  aside  your  rustic  igno 
rance  for  a  little  while,  and  dance  one  polka  with 
me,  Miss  "Wilmot  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  assure  you  I  never  danced  a  polka  in  my 
life,"  I  answered,  gravely. 

"  Well,  I  cannot  say  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,  for 
I  never  admired  the  French  thing,"  he  answered. 
"  But  I  should  really  like  to  dance  with  you,  and 
wish  you  would  engage  yourself  to  me  for  the 
first  old-fashioned  dance  of  shepherds  and  milk 
maids  that  is  played." 

I  thought  him  a  little  bold,  to  say  the  least, 
in  talking  about  my  rustic  ignorance;  but  he 
seemed  so  unconscious  of  saying  anything  im 
proper,  that  I  forgave  him.  He  looked  a  real 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  257 

cliieftain,  tall  and  athletic,  honest  and  handsome, 
too.  I  promised  him  my  hand  for  the  first  set  of 
cotillions  that  was  made  up. 

"I'm  glad  you  are  getting  acquainted  with 
that  Scotchman.  You  and  he  will  like  each 
other,"  said  uncle  to  me,  a  little  while  afterward. 

"  Is  he  really  a  native  of  Scotland  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Not  quite  so  much  as  you  are  of  the  rural 
districts,  Daisy.  He  is  a  young  lawyer  here,  a 
sensible  fellow,  the  only  young  man  in  town  that 
I  care  much  about.  He  detests  the  women 
almost  as  heartily  as  I  do." 

"That  is  a  recommendation  in  my  eyes,"  I 
laughed. 

"  Do  you  see,"  continued  uncle,  in  a  low  tone 
of  voice,  "  that  couple  playing  Beauty  and  the 
Beast?  They  were  married  last  week.  Don't 
you  think  the  bride  looks  happy  ?" 

"  For  my  part,"  I  said,  "  1  not  see  any  emo 
tion — not  a  blush,  nor  a  smile." 

"  Ah,  you  little  rustic !  don't  you  know  that 
blushes  and  tears  are  out  of  fashion  among  peo 
ple  of  the  world?  An  emotion  would  ruin  a 
woman's  position.  She  looks  rather  self-satisfied, 
however,  and  has  reason  to.  Almost  any  of 
these  beautiful  creatures  that  you  see  about  you 


258  LUCY  risr  THE  CITY. 

would  Lave  been  glad  to  secure  the  Beast  for  a 
husband.  She  knows  they  are  dying  of  envy." 

"  But  why  do  the  young  ladies  admire  him  ?" 
I  asked.  "  To  me,  begging  your  pardon,  he  looks 
rather  old  and  very  ugly." 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  he  is  a  little  old,  and 
has  false  eyebrows,  and  dyes  his  whiskers  and 
hair,  and  was  quite  wild  until  he  grew  tired  of 
it,  and  is  now  inclined  to  be  an  invalid  the  most 
of  the  time.  But  his  family  is  an  old  family 
among  us — has  the  butterfly  spots  upon  its  wings. 
Yea  ;  and  so  has  the  Beast  gold  in  his  purse." 

"What  a  pity!"  I  whispered,  looking  at  the 
handsome  young  wife. 

"Pity!  I  hope  you  do  not  suppose  she  needs 
pity  ?  She  will  have  what  she  loves.  Her  affec 
tions  are  not  wasted.  She  loves  diamonds  better 
than  kisses,  and  to  be  envied  better  than  a  young 
husband.  She  will  have  peacocks  made  of 
jewels  upon  the  terraces  of  her  country-house  on 
the  banks  of  the  Hudson." 

Here  a  young  man  attired  as  Beau  Brummell 
sauntered  up  to  us.  "  What  a  consummate  act 
ress  you  are,  Miss  Wilmot !"  he  drawled,  with  a 
smile  which  he  intended  to  be  very  flattering. 
"  Permit  me  to  say  that'  I  have  not  seen  a  cha- 


LUCY    IN   THE   CITY.  259 

racter  performed  so  enchantingly  to-night.  I 
could  almost  fancy  that  you  were  the  blooming 
country  lassie  which  you  personate." 

"  Indeed,  I  am  nothing  else,  sir  !"  I  answered, 
looking  to  uncle  for  relief;  but  he  had  turned 
away,  purposely,  I  believe. 

"He!  he!  he!"  he  tittered,  as  if  I  had  said 
something  very  witty ;  "  pre-cise-ly  !  "What  de 
licious  music  that  is  !  Fair  milkmaid,  will  you 
polk?" 

"  Will  I  what  f  Excuse  me ;  I  do  not  under 
stand  you." 

"He!  he!  he!  excellent!  I  forgot  that  it 
was  not  to  be  expected  of  you,  this  evening. 
Never  mind.  I  hope  to  have  the  exceeding 
pleasure  some  time — aw !" 

He  made  me  so  low  a  bow  that  I  felt  con 
strained  to  drop  him  a  courtesy.  So  everybody 
had  something  to  say  to  me,  and  everybody 
smiled  at  everything  I  said,  no  matter  how  seri 
ously  I  spoke  it. 

After  a  while,  I  danced  the  cotillion  with  the 
Scottish  chief.  When  it  was  finished  we  went 
and  sat  down  in  an  alcove.  "  You  look  really 
amused  and  pleased,"  he  said,  booking  at  me  with 
curiosity.  "  And — do  you  know  ? — I  could  wish 


260  LUCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

that  you  really  were  what  you  seem  to  be  to 
night.  Then  you  might  not  have  lost  the  capa 
city  of  being  made  happy  by  simple  things — 
much  simpler  things  than  this  costly  ball.  If  we 
could  preserve  the  exquisite  sensibility  of  our 
childhood  along  with  our  grown  estate,  how  un 
necessary  it  would  be  to  pamper  our  palled  ap 
petite  upon  such  epicurianism !  A  midnight 
banquet,  where  purple  wines  bubble  up  in  glit 
tering  goblets,  and  a  rich  feast  is  on  the  board, 
where  women  stake  the  brightness  of  their  eyes 
against  the  brightness  of  their  jewels,  and  where 
chandeliers  shed  down  a  mockery  of  the  day, 
cannot  bestow  a  delight  so  deep  and  perfect  as  a 
walk  in  early  spring-time  in.  search  of  daisies  and 
anemones,  where  the  goblet  from  which  you 
drink  is  the  brook  that  sings,  even  while  you 
quaff  its  cup  of  cold  water : 

"  '  I  steal  by  lawns  and  grassy  plots ; 

I  slide  by  hazel  covers  ; 
I  wave  the  sweet  forget-nie-nots 
Which  grow  for  happy  lovers. 

"  *  I  slip,  I  slide,  I  gloom,  I  glance 

Among  my  skimming  swallows  ; 
I  make  the  nettled  sunbeam  glance 
Against  my  sandy  shallows.' 


LUCY   IN  THE   CITY.  261 

But  daisies  are  old-fashioned.  So  are  walks  by 
the  brookside.  Some  country  damsels  and  their 
swains  may  not  have  entirely  deserted  the  be 
spangled  meadow  and  the  bubbling  waters ;  but 
they  have  gone  from  the  hearts  of  the  world's 
people.  Rusticity  -  rests  upon  blue  violets  and 
brooks.  The  ocean  is  still  in  favor ;  for  the 
ocean  is  grand,  majestic,  overwhelming,  an  old 
aristocrat ;  and  those  who  go  to  enjoy  his  society 
can  be  lodged  in  palatial  hotels,  and  are  not 
called  upon  to  resign  in  his  favor  their  waltzes, 
their  flirtations,  their  gauze  dresses,  their  line 
horses,  or  their  good  dinners.  All  these  neces 
sary  things  are  closely  associated  with  their  love 
of  his  grandeur,  their  appreciation  of  his  sub 
limity.  All  the  enthusiasm  permitted  to  a 
refined  nature  may  be  expressed  in  his  behalf 
without  exciting  a-  pitying  smile.  One  of  c  our 
own '  poets,  whose  lyre  was  modulated  precisely 
to  accord  with  the  souls  of  those  he  has  so  long 
played  for,  says,  only  too  truly — 

"  '  You  lie  down  to  your  shady  slumber, 
And  awake  with  a  bug  in  your  ear  ; 
And  your  milkmaid  who  walks  in  the  morning 
Is  shod  like  a  mountaineer ' — 

impressing  very  clearly  the  dangers  of  rustic  sen- 


262  LUCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

timentality.  To  these  fastidious  and  ethereal 
beings, 

"  <  A  sly  flirtation, 
By  the  light  of  a  chandelier,' 

is  the  highest  heaven  to  which  they.aspire.  But 
I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  "Wilmot ;  I  am  actually 
preaching  at  a  fancy  ball.  I  have  made  myself 
v>ery  stupid,  no  doubt,  and  will  try  and  make 
some  amends  by  attending  you  to  the  supper- 
room,  with  your  permission.  ISTow,  if  all  nations 
could  b'e  as  easily  moved  in  one  direction  as  their 
motley  representatives  now  are  toward  the  eat 
ing  department !" 

"We  joined  the  crowd  which  were  pressing  into 
the  dining-room.  It  looked  so  queer  to  me  to 
see  such  brilliant  personages,  courtly  dames, 
princes,  nymphs,  pages,  Pagans,  and  Christians, 
all  engaged  in  eating,  as  if  there  was  no  other 
occupation  in  the  world,  that  I  had  rather  look 
and  laugh  than  taste  any  of  the  dainties  which 
my  chieftain  brought  me.  There  was  a  fairy,  a 
beautiful  Titania,  in  an  exquisite  lace  dress,  that 
looked  as  if  about  to  melt  into  mist,  and  with 
little  silvery  wings  folded  on  her  shoulders,  eat 
ing  salad,  instead  of  sipping  flower-dew.  I  saw 
a  queen,  glittering  with  diamonds,  sitting  down 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  263 

in  a  chance  corner,  with  a  great  plate  full  of 
knick-knacks  ;  a  sentimental  cavalier  was  stuff 
ing  himself  with  cold  turkey ;  Othello  was  wash 
ing  down  his  grief  with  champagne. 

I  must  say,  mother,  I  have  seen  more  real 
good  manners  at  one  of  our  paring-bees  than  I 
saw  there.  You  see,  there  was  a  great  crowd ; 
and  some  people  were  so  afraid  that  they  would 
get  nothing,  that  there  was  actually  a  little  of 
what  I  should  call  scrambling,  going  on.  The 
ladies'  appetites  wTere  not  quite  so  dainty  as  their 
dresses;  and — if  I  must  own  it — I  was  certain 
that  more  than  one  of  the  gentlemen  took  more 
wine  than  was  good  for  them. 

"A  supper  table  is  what  I  call  your  true 
leveller,  a  real  republican  institution,"  said  my 
Scotchman.-  "There's  Queen  Elizabeth  hob 
nobbing  over  a  plate  of  comfits  with  Davy 
Crockett ;  and  there's  Ophelia  consoling  herself 
with  an  ice.  Isn't  this  a  pleasant  and  instruc 
tive  scene,  Miss  "Wilmot  ?" 

I  thought  I  detected  a  little  sarcasm  in  his 
voice  ;  but  I  answered  him  that  I  was  very  much 
entertained  indeed,  as  it  was  all  so  new  to  me. 

But  he  was  not  my  only  attendant.  Every 
body  was  very  civil  to  me.  "  Was  I  enjoying 


264  LUCY  IN  THE   CITY. 

myself?  How  pleased  my  uncle  must  be  to 
have  me  in  his  house !  he  must  be  so  lonely ! 
Why  could  I  not  spent  the  winter  with  him? 
They  hoped  to  have  the  pleasure  of  making  my 
better  acquaintance  very  soon.  "What  a  pretty 
character  I  had  chosen !  how  becoming  it  was  to 
me !"  etc.  etc. 

Once  and  a  while,  Uncle  Eben  would  contrive 
to  get  by  my  side ;  and  then  he  would  tap  my 
cheek,  and  there  would  be  such  a  quizzical 
twinkle  in  his  eyes  that  I  could  see  he  was  very 
much  pleased  about  something.  "  Just  as  I 
expected,"  he  said,  once.  "  I  see  my  little  Daisy 
is  in  full  bloom,  to-night.  Enjoying  yourself, 
are  you  ?" 

When  he  had  opportunity,  he  would  point 
out  and  explain  some  of  the  dresses  and  charac 
ters  to  me.  "  Do  you  see  that  Sister  of  Charity  ?" 
he  whispered,  toward  the  close  of  the  ball. 

"  That  is  Mrs. ,  the  lady  patroness  of  all  the 

charitable  societies,  benevolent  institutions,  etc., 
in  the  city.  She  spends  her  whole  time  doing 
good.  Those  who  do  know  say  that  she  fastens 
her  sewing- girl  down  to  the  lowest  price,  and 
pays  her  washerwoman  in  cold  victuals  and  old 
clothes.  But  it  would  be  heresy  to  doubt  her 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  265 

self-  sacrificing  virtue.  "Why,  only  lately  she  has 
organized  a  society  among  the  ladies  of  her 
circle,  called  the  '  Greenland  Fan  Society.' 
Through  their  exertions,  a  ship  has  been  char 
tered,  and  a  whole  cargo  of  fans,  dilapidated  and 
otherwise,  collected  from  their  fair  owners,  and 
dispatched  to  Greenland,  to  relieve  the  poor 
sufferers  there  from  the  heat ;  and  it  is  expected 
that  fans  will  be  found  to  be  exceedingly  useful 
in  promoting  comfort,  civilization,  and  Christ 
ianity.  Last  winter,  she  distinguished  herself, 
by  her  indefatigable  industry,  in  procuring  sub 
scriptions  to  purchase  flannel  petticoats  for  the 
children  of  the  South-Sea  Islanders.  But  I  can 
not  enumerate  half  her  good  works.  She  will 
do  that  for  herself  if  you  are  so  fortunate  as  to 
make  her  acquaintance.  There  !"  he  whispered 
again,  "  do  you  see  that  person  in  the  garb  of  a 
Persian  poet,  with  a  rose  in  his  silken  girdle,  and 
a  lute  in  his  hand.  That  is  one  of  our  authors. 
He  is  coming  this  way,  and  will  probably  address 
you  a  complimentary  ditty." 

As  he   came  up  to  us,  he  said:   "Water  is 
bright  in  the  two  wells  that  lie  among  the  roses, 
when  the  stars  are  in  the  sky  above  them ;  and 
so  are  thine  eyes,  O  maiden  1" 
12 


266  LUCY  IN  THE   CITY. 

"  Honey  is  sweet,"  I  replied,  "  and  so  is  the 
breath  of  flattery ;  but  it  does  not  agree  with  all 
tastes." 

"  I  will  not  offer  it  to  thy  innocent  lips,  sweet 
rustic,"  he  replied ;  and,  after  a  moment's  pause, 
he  added :  "  Have  you  ever  perused  any  of  my 
couplets  upon  society?  Here  is  one  of  them: 
To  be  simply  ridiculous  is  absurd;  but  to  .be 
supremely,  inimitably  ridiculous  is  sublime. 
Look  about  you,  and  see  if  it  is  not  thus." 

I  presume  I  looked  as  puzzled  as  I  felt.  Do 
you  see  any  sense  in  it,  mother  ? 

"  "What  pretty  little  woman  was  that  with  the 
basket  of  flowers?"  I  asked  Uncle  Eben,  as  I 
saw  he  had  had  a  long  chat  with  her. 

"  Oh,  that's  my  married  friend  whom  I  call 
Bulbul !  She  lets  me  into  a  great  many  of  the 
secrets  of  her  acquaintance.  For  instance,  she 
has  just  told  me  that  that  dashing-looking  crea 
ture  there  has  not  exactly  a  heart,  but  a  bosom 
of  steel,  and  that  she  stains  her  eye-lashes,  and 
eats  cologne-water  on  sugar  to  make  her  eyes 
brighter.  She'll  be  around  here,  to-morrow,  and 
get  very  intimate  with  you,  I've  no  doubt.  "Well, 
she's  welcome  to  make  use  of  all  the  c  arts  and 
wiles'  that  she  discovers  in  my  little  Lucy." 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  267 

And  so  the  night  passed  away ;  and  one  by 
one,  and  dozen  by  dozen  the  gorgeous  guests 
departed ;  and  I  stole  to  my  bed  a  little  before 
the  hour  at  which  I  usually  rise,  to  dream  con 
fused  dreams,  in  which  knights,  fairies,  flower- 
girls,  and  lords  whirled  all  together  in  a  dizzy 
waltz  to  the  sweetest  music.  Wasn't  it  nice, 
mother  ?  Oh,  I  did  so  wish  you  were  there,  that 
it  quite  marred  iny  enjoyment ! 

Breakfast  was  quite  ready  when  I  got  up  that 
morning,  for  it  was  as  much  as  nine  o'clock.  I 
was  really  ashamed  of  myself  for  such  indolence. 
Uncle  Eben  was  waiting  for  me  at  the  breakfast- 
table.  "  The  drama  being  played,"  he  remarked, 
"  I  suppose  the  entertainment  will  conclude  with 
a  farce.  Do  you  know  what  you've  got  to  do 
to-day,  little  one  ?  As  soon  as  breakfast  is  over, 
you  must  go  and  have  that  blue  silk  fitted ;  then 
you  must  return  and  dress  for  calls.  You  will 
have  a  few  hundred  to-day." 

"  What  shall  I  wear,  uncle?" 

"Oh,  anything!  The  best  dress  you  have. 
By  the  way,  I  have  bought  you  a  corded  skirt,  a 
kind  of  compromise  between  your  present  slim- 
ness  and  crinoline — -just  enough  to  keep  you 
from  total  disgrace." 


268  LIJCY   IN"   THE   CITY. 

Uncle  went  with  me  to  the  mantuamaker's. 
:<  Don't  you  make  that  dress  too  low  in  the 
neck ;  if  you  do,  I'll  denounce  you,"  he  said  to 

Madame ,  as  we  were  going  into  a  back 

room  to  take  my  measure. 

She  laughed  and  promised.  Everybody  seems 
to  like  uncle,  he  is  so  good-natured,  even  when 
he  scolds. 

"When  we  came  back,  I  went  up-stairs  to  put 
away  my  bonnet;  and,  when  I  came  down,  1 
found  uncle  lying  back  in  his  chair,  and  laugh 
ing  in  a  little  low  way.  "  Here's  the  morning 
paper,"  said  he.  "Read  the  following  report 
of  the  i  Fancy  Dress  Ball  at  the  house  of  our 

esteemed  fellow-citizen,  E W ,  Esq.' — 

this  paragraph  in  especial." 

I  cut  it  from  the  paper,  mother,  and  preserved 
it  to  read  to  you : 

"  But  the  belle,  par  excellence,  after  all,  was 
the  accomplished  and  beautiful  niece  of  the  host, 

the  fair  Miss  L W ,  a  stranger  in  our 

city,  and  now  visiting  at  the  house  of  her  bache 
lor  uncle.  Her  dress  was  simplicity  itself,  per 
fectly  appropriate  to  the  character  she  perso 
nated,  that  of  a  country  maiden ;  and  never 
were  the  words  of  the  poet  more  enchantingly 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  269 

realized,  that  *  loveliness  needs  not  the  foreign 
aid  of  ornament.'  No  splendor  of  the  toilet 
could  have  enhanced  the  brilliancy  of  that  fresh 
complexion,  or  the  brightness  of  those  dark  blue 
eyes.  Her  beauty  is  as  piquant  as  it  is  fresh. 
She  acted  her  part  with  a  charming  naivete^ 
never  forgetting  what  was  due  to  the  rustic 
maiden ;  though  the  high-born  grace  of  the  lady 
Btill  gleamed  through  the  enchanting  disguise." 

But  I  have  strung  out  my  story  until  it  is 
time  to  put  the  dinner  up.  This  afternoon,  I 
will  finish  it,  dear  mother. 


CHAPTEE    III. 

I  FELT  like  crying  wlien  I  had  finished  read 
ing  the  paper;  and  I  told  Uncle  Eben  it 
was  too  bad  to  get  a  joke  upon  other  people  at 
my  expense.  He  said  "  they  had  got  it  on 
themselves ;  and  perhaps  it  would  teach  them  a 
lesson  ;  that  I  need  not  feel  bad  about  it.  I  had 
been  myself,  and  must  continue  to  be  so ;  and, 
if  they  did  not  like  me  as  well  when  they  found 
out  that  I  was  really  a  country  girl,  and  not  the 
accomplished  heiress  they  had  taken  me  to  be, 
why,  we  could  not  help  it.  People  need  not 
jump  at  conclusions.  Because  he  had  said  that 
a  favorite  niece  was  coming  to  see  him,  they 
must  needs  go  to  thinking  that  nothing  but 
wealth  and  fashion  could  make  her  a  favorite. 
The  young  men,  doubtless,  supposed  I  had  made 
a  will  in  your  favor ;  and  they  would  have  said  just 
as  many  fine  things  as  they  did,  if  you  had  been 
as  homely  as  a  mud  fence.  Never  you  mind, 

270 


LUCY   Df  THE   CITY.  271 

little  one.  The  women  may  turn  up  their  noses 
in  secret  at  your  dress  and  manners ;  but  they 
will  not  dare  to  do  it  openly;  and  let  me  just 
hint  to  the  marriageable  young  men  that  I  think 
of  adopting  you,  and  my  house  will  be  besieged, 
and  would  be  if  you  were  cross-eyed  and  pug- 
nosed.  I  guess  though  there  is  one  at  least  of 
the  number,  who  can  appreciate  modesty, 
beauty,  and  true  refinement,  even  where  there  is 
no  'foreign  aid  of  ornament'  to  set  it  off." 

Don't  think  me  vain,  mother,  in  repeating 
what  he  said.  He  just  said  it,  I  suppose,  to 
cheer  me  up. 

I  concluded  to  make  the  best  of  it ;  so  I  put 
on  the  corded  skirt,  and  my  prettiest  dress,  next 
to  the  white,  and  made  my  hair  look  as  well  as 
possible,  and  reappered  before  my  uncle  to  take 
my  part  with  him  in  receiving  visitors. 

I  was  glad  they  came  in  crowds,  for  I  did  not 
have  to  say  much ;  and  it  made  it  less  embar 
rassing.  But  my  eyes  were  opened  now ;  and  I 
could  see  the  looks  of  surprise,  disappointment, 
and  mirth  which  were  slily  interchanged.  My 
self-respect  coming  to  the  rescue,  I  was  able  to 
bear  it  very  well.  As  for  uncle,  I  could  per 
ceive  that  he  was  in  the  highest  spirits ;  and  I 


272  LUCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

shouldn't  wonder  if  some  of  the  rest  were  sharp 
enough  to  see  it,  too. 

Just  at  dark,  my  new  dress  came  home. 
Uncle  told  me  to  go  put  it  on,  and  he  would  take 
me  to  the  opera.  You've  seen  it,  mother.  How 
pretty  it  is  made,  with  short  sleeves  and  low  in 
the  neck  !  /  thought  it  was  too  low;  but  uncle 
said  "  Pshaw  !  that  was  nothing  !"  I  was  going 
to  don  my  leghorn  bonnet :  but  he  told  me  that 
we  were  to  ride,  and  that  I  might  just  throw  my 
veil  over  my  head.  "  Here,"  he  said ;  "  first 
put  these  flowers  in  your  hair." 

I  was  dazzled,  at  first,  by  the  lights  and  the 
display ;  but,  after  we  had  sat  in  our  box  a  few 
moments,  I  began  to  take  note  of  what  was  about 
me.  The  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  dressed  as 
if  for  a  party.  I  could  not  help  blushing, 
mother,  absolutely  blushing,  to  see  how  some  of 
the  former  were  attired.  I  asked  uncle  if  those 
were  respectable  women. 

"  The  very  condensed  extract  of  respecta 
bility,"  was  his  reply.  "Don't  be  alarmed, 
Lucy,  at  anything  you  may  see.  It  takes  so 
much  to  make  the  skirts  of  the  dresses,  now-a- 
days,  that  there  is  nothing  left  for  the  waist  and 
sleeves." 


LTJCY   IN   THE   CITY.  273 

"  What  are  those  queer  little  things  they  are 
all  holding?" 

"Telescopes,  to  discover  the  stars,  my  dear. 
I  expect  that  you  will  be  one  of  almost  the  first 
magnitude,  to-night." 

I  felt  very  uncomfortable  to  see  so  many  of 
the  things  pointed  at  me  like  so  many  pistols ; 
and  I  wished  uncle  had  taken  seats  in  a  less  con 
spicuous  place  ;  but,  when  the  overture,  as  they 
call  it,  began  to  play,  I  was  so  enchanted  I  for 
got  everything.  It  was  the  sweetest  music  I 
ever  heard ;  and  I  almost  imagined  I  was  in 
heaven,  I  was  so  rapt  in  it.  The  glittering 
lights,  the  performers,  the  gay  throng,  all  took 
on  a  magical  effect,  and  seemed  to  be  lifted  up 
and  floating  away  in  an  ethereal  atmosphere. 
Then  a  woman,  elegantly  dressed,  glided  on  the 
stage,  and  commenced  a  kind  of  half-speaking, 
half-singing,  looking  at  us  appealingly,  as  if  she 
were  in  some  trouble,  and  all  of  a  sudden,  as  I 
was  looking  earnestly  at  her,  her  bosom  began 
to  heave ;  and  she  burst  forth  in  a  succession  of 
trembling  shrieks  that  made  me  jump  to  my  feet 
in  alarm.  "  Mercy  !  what  is  the  matter  with 
her?"  I  asked.  But  uncle  pulled  me  down  in 
my  seat,  and  told  me,  a  little  sharply,  not  to 


274:  LUCY   IN   THE  CITY. 

make  a  goose  of  myself.  I  guess  he  was  pro- 
.  voked  at  ray  stupidity,  for  lie  is  very  fond  of  the 
opera.  I  must  say,  mother,  I  had  rather  hear 
Jessie  Clyde  sing  one  of  her  ballads ;  but  uncle 
tells  me  I  will  think  differently  one  of  these 
days,  when  my  taste  is  more  cultivated,  and  I 
learn  to  detect  and  feel  all  that  the  music 
expresses. 

During  recess,  several  people  left  their  boxes, 
and  came  over  to  ours.  Among  them  was  Mr. 
Fitz  Foom,  the  young  gentleman  who  played 
Beau  Brummell,  at  the  party.  He  was  exces 
sively  polite  to  me — didn't  seem  at  all  put  out 
by  the  discovery  that  I  was  a  country  girl  and 
didn't  wear  crinoline.  I  wish  1  could  describe 
him  to  you,  mother.  He  was  small,  and  he  was 
pale,  and  he  was  nice,  oh,  so  nice !  He  had 
hands  about  the  size  of  mine,  covered  with  kid 
gloves,  white  as  snow.  He  had  a  little  bit  of 
silky,  light-colored  moustache,  pale  blue  eyes, 
and  a  face  as  expressive  as  a  piece  of  paper  with 
nothing  on  it.  He  looked  as  if  he  had  just  been 
taken  out  of  a  French  bandbox,  and  smelt  like  a 
dying  musk-rose.  If  you  had  seen  him,  so 
dreadfully  dainty,  holding  his  opera-glass — that's 
the  telescope,  as  uncle  calls  it — :and  perfumed 


LUCY   IN    THE   CITY.  275 

handkerchief,  as  if  he  was  afraid  to  touch  even 
them,  you'd  have  felt  like  taking  him  across  your 
•lap,  and  spanking  him,  mother.  He  was  such  a 
contrast  to  Mr.  Hamilton — he's  the  one  who  was 
my  Highland  chief — that  he  appeared  more  in 
significant  still.  Mr.  Hamilton  was  tall,  and 
plainly  dressed,  and  had  no  gewgaws  about  him. 
There  was  something  deep  and  manly  in  his  tone 
that  made  Mr.  Fitz  Foom's  lisping  little  voice 
sound  rather  ridiculous. 

"Wasn't  you  quite  overcome  by  Mr.  Fitz 
Foom's  attractions  ?"  asked  uncle,  as  we  rode 
home.  "I  assure  you,  they  conferred  a  great 
deal  of  honor  upon  you." 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  dear  uncle,  I  was  thinking, 
the  most  of  the  time,  what  a  splendid  figure  he 
would  cut  riding  round  the  yard  upon  Sukey's 
horns.  Oh,  dear  !  wouldn't  I  like  to  invite  him 
out  in  the  country,  and  frighten  him  out  of  his 
five  exquisite  senses  with  a  few  little  harmjess 
tricks !" 

"  Good  !"  he  laughed.  "  Perhaps  we  can 
bring  it  about,  for — let  me  tell  you  a  secret — the 
young  gentleman  is  in  love  with  you." 

"  With  me !     What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Oh,  I've  not  had  my  eyes  in   use  for  forty 


276  LUCY   IN  THE   CITY. 

years  for  nothing !  He's  in  love — not  with  your 
eyes,  or  hair,  or  fresh  young  face,  or  modest, 
affectionate  heart — but  with  your  prospects ;  for 
I  have  slily  insinuated  to  him  that  your  father 
is  worth  fifty  thousand,  and  that  you  were,  of  all 
my  nieces,  my  favorite.  You  must  forgive  me, 
Daisy  ;  but  I  wanted  to  see  the  result." 

"  Well,  uncle,  I  must  say  you  take  great  liber 
ties  with  my  good  nature." 

"It's  nothing  serious,  my  dear,  just  to  be 
bothered  with  his  attentions  a  week.  It  won't 
hurt  you  nor  him." 

I  thought  uncle  was  mistaken  in  his  surmises  ; 
but  the  very  next  morning  there  came  a  beauti 
ful  bouquet,  with  the  compliments  of  Mr.  Fitz 
Foom. 

"  Poor  Fitz  Foom !  I  wonder  if  he  got  trusted 
for  it?"  remarked  Uncle  Eben.  "I  expect  he 
needs  a  wife  very  much  to  pay  his  tailor's  and 
perfumer's  bills  for  him.  The  price  of  kid  gloves 
is  rising,  too  ;  and  that's  more  fatal  to  his  inte 
rests  than  a  rise  in  the  sugar  market." 

We  had  a  great  many  calls  that  day,  also.  I 
got  heartily  tired  of  them.  I  wanted  to  sit  in  the 
library,  and  read  some  of  the  many  attractive 
books  I  found  there.  If  I  did  not  love  you,  and 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  277 

father,  and  ray  old  home  so  much,  I  should  like 
to  1)e  Uncle  Eben's  housekeeper.  That  library 
is  such  a  pleasant  place !  We  breakfast  in  it ; 
and  then  there  are  the  morning  papers  and  all 
the  new  books  ;  and  it  has  such  a  snug,  comfort 
able  look.  There  are  pictures,  and  a  case  of 
minerals,  and  shells,  and  fossils,  and  a  bust  of 
Shakspeare,  and  so  many  interesting  things. 

In  the  evening,  we  went  to  see  the  Ravels ; 
and  there  I  was  amused !  It  is  worth  a  trip  to 
New  York.  You've  read  about  them,  mother  ? 
They  don't  speak  a  word.  All  their  playing 's 
done  in  pantomime.  You  and  father  must  take 
a  trip  down  to  the  city,  some. time,  and  see  Un 
cle  Eben,  and  the  town,  and  the  Ravels.  What  ? 
You  guess  you'll  have  to  be  making  visits  there 
before  long,  if  you  want  to  see  your  daughter  ? 
Pshaw,  ma !  you'd  better  wait  until  uncle  asks 
me  to  live  with  him.  You  was't  thinking  of  un 
cle's  asking  ?  Well,  wait  till  you  hear  about  Mr, 
Fitz  Foom,  then. 

For  the  next  few  days,  we  kept  pretty  quiet, 
for  I  wanted  all  my  mornings  to  pass  in  the 
library.  We  took  some  delightful  walks  in  the 
afternoons.  Uncle  Eben  would  take  so  much 
pains  to  explain  things  to  me  !  I  couldn't  help 


278  LTJCT   IN   THE   CITY. 

noticing  the  little  girls  and  boys  that  we  met — 
miniature  men  and  women.  Their  faces  were  as 
pale  as  flowers  grown  in  a  cellar  ;  and  they  had 
the  composed  stare  and  preternatural  self-posses 
sion  of  their  elders,  as  well  as  the  fine  and  ex 
pensive  dress.  I  declare  it  made  my  heart  ache 
to  see  them ;  and  I  longed  to  ask  some  of  the 
pretty  little  girls  to  go  home  with  me,  and  learn 
to  slide  down  the  straw-stack,  climb  the  chest 
nut-tree,  feed  the  chickens,  and  ride  the  pony. 
I  don't  believe  they  ever  saw  a  ten-acre  lot  in 
their  lives,  or  plucked  a  violet  out  of  the  grass,  or 
ate  mush  and  milk  with  the  cream  stirred  in. 
I'm  so  glad  I  was  not  born  a  city  child,  for  then 
I  should  have  no  such  delightful  recollections  of 
playing  in  the  farm. 

I  spoke  about  the  children  to  uncle. 

"  Children  !"  'said  he,  contemptuously  ;  "  there 
are  none  now-a-days.  I  used  to  love  little  girls 
above  all  things — the  artless,  willful,  romping, 
modest,  rosy  little  girls,  in  pantalets  and  pina 
fores.  I  could  have  sacrificed  anything  to  them 
— my  afternoon  nap,  or  my  smoking-cap  to  make 
a  doll-baby  of.  They  might  have  pulled  my 
whiskers  out,  and  spilled  my  ink  on  the  carpet, 
and  I  wouldn't  have  winced.  But  now — humph  I 


LUCY  IN   THE   CITY.  279 

A  few  nights  ago,  I  was  at  an  assembly ;  and  it 
was  nearly  midnight  when  I  first  observed  what 
I  took  to  be  a  cunning  puppet  in  imitation  of  the 
lady  of  the  house — a  little  doll-like  thing,  in  a 
dress  with  five  flounces,  with  a  bouquet,  fan  and 
lace  handkerchief,  a  miniature  of  every  mature 
grace,  and  the  centre  of  an  admiring  circle.  But 
what  I  took  to  be  a  thing  of  art  was  really  not  a 
puppet,  but  the  daughter  of  the  lady  of  the 
house,  six  years  of  age.  She  was  bandying  com 
pliments  with  the  ease  of  a  woman  of  the  world. 
Her  mother  introduced  me.  With  that  want  of 
tact  which  makes  me  so  absurd,  I  addressed  her 
as  if  she  had  been  an  ordinary  little  girl — c  My 
dear,  are  you  not  sleepy  ?  "  Early  to  bed,"  you 
know,  etc.'  Ah,  I  had  lost  all  chance  of  ever 
being  friendly  with  her,  kindly  as  my  intentions 
were  !  Her  cheek  flushed  with  disdain.  <  I  re 
main  until  after  supper,'  she  replied,  in  the 
freezing  tone  so  well  calculated  to  check  any 
further  advances  upon  my  part." 

I  don't  always  quite  understand  Uncle  Eben. 
Once,  when  we  passed  a  pompous-looking  man, 
who  bowed  to  him,  I  asked  who  he  was. 

"  Oh,  that,"  said  he,  "  is  a  fine,  portly  old  gen 
tleman  whom  everybody  esteems!  He  was 


280  LUCY  IN  THE  CITY. 

lately  the  president  of  a  company  for  the  manu 
facture  of  gold  coins  out  of  gas.  The  shares  rose 
so  high  that  speculators  had  to  go  up  in  balloons 
to  take  them ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  gas  proved 
explosive,  burst,  and  ruined  the  company.  The 
coins  fell  into  the  laps  of  the  directors  ;  and  the 
rest  got  nothing  but  the  gas.  The  president, 
overcome  by  his  misfortunes,  immediately  retired 
into  a  brown  stone  mansion  on  Fifth  Avenue, 
and  has  abstained  from  any  but  the  most  exclu 
sive  society  ever  since.  He  has  been  much  com 
miserated  by  his  friends ;  and  I  think  it  helped 
him  to  marry  off  his  daughter,  the  young  crea 
ture  we  saw  playing  Beauty  to  the  Beast,  the 
other  night.  "We  all  sympathize  with  adversity, 
you  know." 

"  You  are  trying  to  puzzle,  aren't  you  ?"  I 
asked. 

"Maybe.  But  don't  bother  your  innocent 
brains  about  it.  Come  in  here,  and  I  will  buy 
you  some  bonbons." 

"We  went  into  an  elegant  saloon. 

"  I  used  to  think  dissipation  confined  to  my 
own  sex,"  he  continued ;  "  but,  if  you  had  fre 
quented  this  establishment  as  long  as  I,  you 
would  become  convinced  that  we  are  not  guilty 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  281 

of  all  that  may  be  classed  under  that  head. 
"When  I  have  seen  fashionable  mothers  here  at 
midnight,  lavishing  their  smiles  upon  gentlemen 
not  their  husbands,  and  sipping  luxurious  refresh 
ments,  and  have  thought  of  their  poor  infants  at 
home — abandoned  to  the  tender  mercy  of  Brid 
gets,  as  fond  of  a  little  stealthy  enjoyment  as 
themselves  in  a  less  refined  way,  and  giving  the 
helpless  little  ones  anodynes  to  secure  themselves 
leisure  for  an  hour  in  the  basement  dining-room 
— I  have  shuddered  at  the  picture  conjured  up.' 
Do  you  wonder  I  do  not  marry  ?  But  mercy ! 
whom  am  I  talking  to  ?  My  little  Lucy  must 
forget  what  I  have  said.  -  Let  her  always  keep 
her  own  affectionate  heart  and  unsullied  con 
science,  and  believe  that  every  one  else  is  as 
pure  as  herself." 

"We  met  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  in  the  saloon ;  and  he 
asked  permission  to  call  in  the  evening,  if  we  were 
not  engaged  out.  My  uncle  told  him  we  were  not, 
and  should  be  happy  to  see  him — very  happy. 
He  looked  delighted.  Still,  I  saw  him  enjoy, 
with  an  indescribable,  despairing  glance,  my 
morocco  shoes  and  pink  silk  gloves.  "  He  feels 
like  a  lamb  about  to  be  butchered,  and  is  endea 
voring  to  prepare  himself  for  the  sacrifice,"  I 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY. 

thought.  "  He  will  tell  me  how  to  dress  in  bet 
ter  taste  when  he  acquires  the  right  to  instruct." 

Mr.  Fitz  Foom  was  faithful  to  his  engagement, 
coming  in  all  milk-and-water  smiles,  perfumes, 
and  politeness.  I  was  so  provoked,  I  didn't 
know  what  to  do,  when  uncle  got  up  and  begged 
to  be  excused  for  half  an  hour  to  write  an  im 
portant  letter. 

He  had  not  been  out  of  the  room  over  five 
minutes  when  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  was  on  one  knee 
before  me,  asking  me  to  many  him.  How  it 
came  about,  I  cannot  tell  to  this  day.  He  took 
me  all  of  a  sudden,  before  I  had  time  to  put  on 
any  precautionary  reserve.  He  did  it  very 
prettily,  with  two  fingers  of  his  snowy  hand 
pressed  against  the  padding  on  the  left  side  of 
his  vest. 

1  was  dreadfully  embarrassed  at  first,  and  could 
hardly  summon  self-possession  enough  to  draw 
away  the  hand  which  he  attempted  to  take. 
But,  as  I  looked  down  at  the  dainty  creature, 
thrown  into  a  studied  attitude,  and  not  one  shade 
of  doubt  upon  his  expectant  face,  a  little  feeling 
of  anger  drew  away  timidity.  But  he  was  too 
insignificant  for  anger ;  and,  when  he  murmured, 
rhapsodically,  "  Miss  "Wilmot,  the  happiness  of  a 


LUCY   IN   THE   CITY.  283 

virgin  heart,  that  has  never  hitherto  breathed  its 
affections  upon  earthly  shrine,  is  hanging  upon 
your  lips,"  a  vision  of  his  "  virgin  heart,"  stuffed 
full  of  unpaid  bills,  arose  before  me,  and  I 
laughed. 

"  If  your  happiness  is  hanging  upon  my  lips,  I 
am  afraid  it  will  get  a  fall,"  I  said.  "  I  do  not 
think  there  is  any  congeniality  between  us.  I 
could  not  think  of  marrying  you,  Mr.  Fitz 
Foom." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  there  is,  Miss  "Wilinot !  I  have 
thought  of  nothing  else  since  the  first  moment  I 
met  you." 

"  But  I  arn  a  plain  country  girl "  (he  raised 
his  hands  in  deprecation) ;  "  and  you  are  an  ele 
gant  man  of  the  world  "  (here  he  smiled,  and 
tried  to  look  modest),  "  a  kind  of  butterfly, 
£  roving  from  flower  to  flower.'  Your  hands  are 
very  white  and  soft,  much  more  so  than  mine ; 
and,  if  you  married  me,  you  would  soon  grow 
tired  of  country  life.  Besides,  your  wrists  are 
not  strong  enough  for  milking;  and  I  am 
resolved  that  the  man  I  marry  must  milk  all  the 
cows." 

His  eyes  opened  wider  than  they  ever  had 
done  before. 


284:  LUGY   IN   THE  CITY. 

"  But  why  need  we  live  in  the  country  at  all  ? 
Of  course,  I  should  be  afraid  of  the  cows.  They 
are  horrid  creatures.  It  was  not  my  intention 
that  we  should  reside  " 

"  But  you  see  we  cannot  do  as  we  please.  I 
understand  that  you  do  not  possess  much  avail 
able  property  yourself ;  and  my  fortune  depends 
at  present  upon  the  will  of  my  father.  He 
wishes  me  to  marry  some  one  to  take  the  charge 
of  the  farm  oft*  his  hands.  He  is  getting  a  little 
infirm  with  years,  and  would  welcome  a  smart, 
capable  son-in-law,  who  could  guide  the  plough, 
take  care  of  the  stock,  haul  the  grain  to  market, 
and  oversee  things  generally.  If  you  will  pro 
mise  to  do  this,  I  don't  know — though  it's  rather 
sudden — but — perhaps  " 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  accept  you  upon  such  terms !" 
he  exclaimed,  with  an  expression  of  horror,  as  he 
arose  from  his  knee,  and  retreated  a  step  or  two. 

"You  would  have  to  eat  pork  and  boiled 
victuals  in  the  kitchen  along  with  the  men,  or 
else  they  would  say  you  felt  above  them,  and 
would  refuse  to  work  for  you.  One  thing, 
though,  would  be  nice — coming  to  town  to  sell 
our  butter  and  eggs,  and  dropping  in  to  Uncle 
Eben's  to  dinner." 


LUCY  IN   THE  CITY.  285 

"  I  should  perish — of — disgust  1"  he  murmured, 
in  despair.  "That  certainly  wouldn't  pay.  I 
couldn't  think  of  it.  I  must  bid  you  a  very 

good  eve  " Here  the  thought  of  a  dun  which 

was  dogging  him  came  over  him,  perhaps,  and 
urged  him  back  to  another  trial.  "  Re-ally,  now, 
Miss  "Wilmot,  why  wouldn't  your  uncle  give  us 
a  home  here,  and  be  done  with  it  ?  It  would  be 
so  agreeable  all  round." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  if  you  should 
ask  him,  he  would  suspect  you  of  mercenary 
motives." 

"He  would  do  me  the  greatest  injustice,  then, 
my  angelic  Lucy.  I  swear  to  you  " 

"  But  it's  wicked  to  swear." 

"That,  for  your  dear  sake,  I  would  go 
through" 

"  The  barnyard  to  drive  up  the  cows  for  me 
to  milk?" 

"  That  without  you  I  shall  be  a  broken  " 

"  Down  adventurer." 

"  I  believe  you  'mean  to  insult  me,  Miss  Wil- 
mot,"  he  said,  at  this,  retreating  toward  the 
door,  just  as  it  was  thrown  open  for  Mr.  Hamil 
ton  to  enter.  I  blushed;  and  Mr.  Fitz  Foom 
made  a  hasty  exit. 


LUCY   IN"   THE   CITY. 

Mr.  Hamilton  was  constrained  in  his  manners ; 
and  I  was  very  glad  to  see  Uncle  Eben  coming 
to  the  rescue.  "Ha,  Puss!  you  were  rather 
saucy,"  he  cried,  as  he  came  in.  "  But  served 
him  right !  served  him  right !  Bless  my  soul ! 
but  didn't  the  picture  you  drew  frighten  him  ?" 

"  Why,  uncle !  have  you  been  " 

"Listening?  Yes,  the  whole  time.  Little 
Daisy,  here,  has  been  trying  to  strike  up  a  bar 
gain  with  Fitz  Foom,  to  tend  her  dairy  for  her, 
Mr.  Hamilton." 

"  Oh,  uncle !"  I  cried.  And  then  I  ran  out 
of  the  room,  and  left  them  to  themselves. 

You  are  getting  tired;  aren't  you,  mother? 
Well,  would  you  believe  that,  two  or  three  days 
before  I  came  away,  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  came  back 
again,  and  was  so  good-natured  and  so  insensible 
that  I  had  to  forgive  him?  He  is  determined 
not  to  give  up  the  ship.  I  expect  he's  in  very 
straitened  circumstances.  I  felt  like  offering 
him  the  loan  of  my  purse,  with  all  my  ten  dol 
lars  of  spending  money.  But  I  recollected  that 
you  needed  a  merino  dress  for  winter;  and, 
as  Uncle  Eben  was  as  good  as  to  buy  me  every 
thing  I  wanted,  I  bought  the  dress  for  you ;  and 
uncle  added  the  muff  and  tippet.  Aren't  they 


LTJCY   IN  THE   CITY.  287 

nice  ?  He's  such  a  dear,  queer  man ;  isn't  he  ? 
Uncle  Eben,  I  mean.  I  am  so  glad  he  has  in 
vited  me  to  visit  him,  for,  despite  of  all  my 
blunders,  I  enjoyed  myself  so  much,  and  saw  so 
many  new  things ;  and  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  told  me 
he  was  coming  out  to  visit  us  before  long — and 
— and — what  makes  me  so  red  in  the  face.  Why, 
I  don't  know  but  I  am — but — Uncle  Eben  is 
coming  out,  next  month ;  and  he's  going  to  bring 
Mr.  Hamilton  with  him.  He  wants  you  to  make 
his  acquaintance,  he  thinks  so  highly  of  him — 
and — dear  me,  how  warm  it  is  here  ?  Don't  you 
think  so,  mother  ? 


ME.    FITZ    FOOM    IN   THE    COUNTRY. 

A  SEQUEL  TO  LUCY  IN  THE  CITY. 

DEAR  UNCLE  EBEN  : 

TT'S  well  that  you  are  a  hundred  miles  away 
JL  from  your  indignant  niece,  if  you  want  to 
save  your  hair  from  a  most  unmerciful  pulling  ! 
What,  in  the  name  of  sense,  possessed  you  to 
send  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  out  here  to  visit  mG  ? 
Knowing  everything  as  well  as  you  do,  I  must 
say  that  the  joke  was  extremely  practical,  at  my 
expense  as  well  as  his.  Poor  fellow !  he  left, 
this  morning,  after  a  visit  of  three  days,  having 
come,  I  understood,  with  the  intention  of  remain 
ing  as  many  weeks. 

Last  Tuesday  forenoon,  as  I  was  busy  in  the 
kitchen,  for  it  was  baking  day,  and  I  had  a  great 
deal  to  do,  there  came  a  knock  at  the  front  door. 
Supposing  it  to  be  some  of  the  neighbors,  I  just 
slipped  off  my  apron,  rolled  down  my  sleeves, 
gave  my  hair  a  dash  down  with  my  hands,  and 

13 


290  ME.   FITZ  FOOM  IN  THE   COUNTRY. 

hurried  to  open  it.  Judge  of  my  surprise,  when 
there  stood  Mr.  Fitz  Foom,  a  jaunty  little  cloak 
and  cap  on,  a  little  cane  twirled  in  his  fingers, 
and  a  smile  upon  his  pretty  little  face,  as  exqui 
site  a  specimen  of  a  small  man  as  could  be 
imagined !  I  was  so  taken  aback  that  I  could 
hardly  ask  him  in,  and  could  not  forbear  a  sly 
glance  at  a  long  streak  of  flour  which  orna 
mented  the  side  breadth  of  my  gingham  dress, 
and  which  I  had  gained  in  passing  the  flour-bar 
rel  on  my  last  errand  to  the  pantry.  I  saw  him 
looking  in  the  same  direction  ;  but  he  smothered 
any  horror  which  he  may  have  inwardly  felt  at 
this  betrayal  of  my  morning  occupations. 

"  I  suppose  you  received  the  note  which  I  sent 
you  by  post  announcing  my  intended  visit,  Miss 
Wilmot  ?" 

No  ;  I  had  not  received  it.  I  mutely  wished 
that  I  had,  when  I  thought  of  how  little  we 
were  prepared  for  such  company. 

"  You  must  pardon  the  very  great  liberty  1 
have  taken  in  accepting  your  uncle's  invitation, 
who  insisted  upon  my  coming  to  see  you  with 
out  further  ceremony  than, the  sending  of  a  note. 
He  thought  the  country  air  would  do  me  good, 
as  I  was  complaining  of  dyspepsia.  That  my 


ME.    FITZ   FOCM   IN   THE    COUNTRY.  291 

own  heart  pleaded  with  me  to  yield  to  his  kind 
persuasions,  I  will  not  say,  for  I  am  forced  to 
silence.  I  have  sworn  that,  whatever  that  beat 
ing  heart  may  feel,  its  emotions  shall  be  kept 
secret  from  their  fair  and  agitating  cause.  Do 
not  blush,  sweet  being ;  I  have  come  only  as  a 
friend." 

I  suppose  you  will  call  me  a  silly  little  girl  if 
I  confess  that  my  face  was  redder  than  a  pulpit- 
cushion  for  a  minute  or  two ;  but  his  manner 
was  so  very  impressive  and  overpowering,  and 
his  appearance  so  unexpected,  that  I  was  discom 
posed.  I  gave  him  as  cordial  a  welcome  as  I 
could  counterfeit.  A  queer  look  came  over  his 
face  when  he  entered  the  keeping-room.  He 
seemed  a  little  afraid  of  hurting  his  patent 
leathers  by  bringing  them  in  contact  with  the 
home-made  carpet ;  and  I  saw  the  critical  glance 
which  he  gave  at  father's  favorite  picture,  the 
portrait  of  "Washington,  which  hangs,  you 
remember,  over  the  mantel,  with  the  china  dog 
under  it. 

It  was  a  splendid  Indian-summer  day  ;  and  / 
thought  the  room  was  very  pretty.  The  sun 
shine  came  in  the  two  front  windows ;  and  I  had 
looped  the  curtains  back  with  sprays  of  scarlet 


292  ME.   FITZ   FOOM   IN  THE   COUNTRY. 

bittersweet,  and  made  everything  as  neat  as  a 
pink.  I  gave  him  a  seat  by  the  window,  and 
excused  myself  for  a  few  moments,  to  go  out 
and  give  mother  warning  of  the  unexpected 
guest.  She  laughed  heartily  wrhen  I  told  her 
that  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  had  arrived  with  his  carpet 
bag  ;  which  relieved  me,  for  I  expected  she 
would  be  vexed  to  death. 

"  Well,  well,  Lucy !  who'd  have  thought  it  ? 
I  guess  I  shall  not  let  you  go  to  the  city  again. 
Never  mind  about  the  dinner,  child.  I'll  get  it 
on  the  table  without  further  help.  Go  and  put 
on  your  merino  dress,  and  do  the  best  you  can 
to  be  polite  to  him." 

I  had  made  a  nice  custard,  and  set  it  to  cool ; 
and  there  was  a  plump  pair  of  chickens  in  the 
oven ;  so  I  gave  myself  no  uneasiness  about  the 
table.  Ten  minutes  sufficed  me  in  which  to  don 
my  dress,  smooth  my  hair,  and  put  on  a  linen 
collar.  x  When  I  returned  to  the  keeping-room, 
there  sat  the  visitor  looking  disconsolately  out  of 
the  window,  a  very  visible  shade  of  disappoint 
ment  upon  his  face.  "  You've  a  very  pretty 
place  here,  Miss  Lucy,  but  not  at  all  what  I 
expected  from  the  description  of  your  uncle. 
He  gave  me  to  understand  that  the  house  was  a 


ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN    THE    COUNTRY.  293 

Grecian  villa,  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  noble 
forest  of  oaks,  with,  a  park  stretching  away  upon 
one  side,  and  with  out-buildings  and-  gateways 
of  the  most  tasteful  and  appropriate  character," 
he  remarked.  "  I  could  hardly  persuade  myself 
that  I  had  been  directed  aright — not  that  every 
thing  is  not  very  nice,  indeed,  but  so  different, 
you  know,-from  what  I  had  been  led  to  expect." 

"  Uncle  Wilmot  has  a  very  vivid  imagination, 
Mr.  Fitz  Foom ;  and  you  must  make  allowance  - 
for  its  exercise.  It's  only  one  of  his  standing 
jokes,  calling  this  a  Grease-ian.  villa,  because 
father  raises  so  much  pork.  The  out-buildings 
are  c  appropriate '  to  the  business,  as  you  would 
think,  if  you  should  see  all  the  pig-pens.  He 
calls  the  hen-house  an  aviary,  and  the  Shanghais 
foreign  birds.  The  meadow  is  the  park.  As  for 
the  old  oak-trees,  he  could  not  praise  them  too 
much." 

The  very  slightest  tremble  of  disgust  disturbed 
the  moustache  upon  his  patrician  lip  as  I  spoke 
of  the  Grecian  villa.  It  was  a  pun  too  horrible 
for  him  to  contemplate,  and  for  which  you, 
dear  uncle,  must  be  solely  responsible.  He 
looked  about,  as  if  mutely  asking  for  his  hat,  but, 
after  a  moment  of  troubled  silence,  regained  a 
forced  composure. 


294  ME.    FIT?  FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTEY. 

.  "  And  is  pork-raising  a  profitable  business, 
MissWilmot?" 

"  1  believe  it  is  regarded  as  such;  but  I  cannot 
positively  say." 

"  How  much  do  you  think — that  is,  has  your 
father  laid  up  any  particular  sum  of  money  out 
of  it?" 

"I  do  not  know  just  how  much,  Mr.  Fitz 
Foom.  And  you  must  not  think  that  it  is  his 
especial  calling.  My  father  is  a  farmer,  who 
raises  wheat  and  corn.  But  out  of  the  refuge  of 
his  fields,  he  has  enough  to  fatten  a  few  droves. 
I  suppose  you  know  but  little  of  the  country,  Mr. 
Fitz  Foom  ?" 

"  Yery  little,  indeed.  I've  been  in  it  occasion 
ally,  for  a  day  or  two,  with  a  party  of  friends, 
rusticating  on  the  estate  of  some  wealthy  gentle 
man.  I  don't  think  I  should  like  the  country. 
It's  very  nice  to  talk  about,  but  very  vulgar 
close  at  hand.  I  don't  see  how  so  ethereal  a 
being  as  yourself,  Miss  Lucy,  could  have  sur 
vived  so  long  in  it.  I  trust  that  soon  the  per 
suasions  of  friends,  of  your  uncle,  and — and 
your  humble  servant,  will  induce  you  to  forsake 
it?" 

"  My  heart  is  wedded  to  it ;  it  is  my  home ; 
and  I  love  it,  sir." 


ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY.  295 

"'If  we  could  wed  that  virgin  heart  to  some 
thing  better  !  he !  he  !  he  !  But  I  will  not  again 
call  up  those  divine  blushes." 

"  The  day  is  lovely ;  would  you  like  to  walk 
over  the  farm  a  little,  before  dinner,  Mr.  Fitz 
Foom  ?"  I  asked,  anxious  to  escape  from  an  elo 
quence  so  overwhelming. 

I  swung  my  straw  hat  on  my  arm;  and  we 
sallied  forth.  I  noticed  that  he  shivered  a  little 
in  the  cool,  bright  air,  which  only  invigorated 
me,  and  made  me  feel  mischievous,  too,  in  my 
overflow  of  animal  spirits.  As  we  sauntered 
under  the  oaks,  I  gathered  the  most  brilliant  of 
the  dropping  leaves,  and  wove  them  in  a  wreath, 
with  which  I  offered  to  crown  his  "  Beebe's 
best ;"  but  he  was  afraid  of  disturbing  its  gloss ; 
and  so  I  donned  the  garland  myself,  and 
laughed,  without  any  more  blushes,  at  his  pro 
fuse  compliments.  Poor  fellow  !  I  suppose  it's 
up-hill  business  to  him,  getting  trusted  for  his 
new  clothes  ;  and  I  felt  for  him  in  the  pains  he 
took  with  his  hat ;  and,  when  he  split  the  knee 
of  his  pantaloons  getting  over  the  fence  into  the 
meadow,  my  condolences  were  sincere. 

"  It's  the  only  pair  I  have  with  me,"  he  said, 
with  a  rueful  smile. 


296  MR.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY. 

"Never  mind!  Mother  will  mend  them  for 
you,  after  you  go  to  bed  to-night,  if  you  will  put 
them  out  in  the  hall." 

"But  I  never  wore  anything  patched  in  my 
life." 

"  That  will  not  need  patching,  only  darning, 
which  is  not  so  bad;  and  everybody  wears 
patched  clothes  in  the  country.  Isn't  it  pretty 
from  here — this  meadow  sloping  away,  and 
girdled  about  with  that  silver  stream  ?" 

"  Charming !  ah  !  very  !  good  farm  land,  eh  ?" 

"  Yery  good  for  grazing  and  hay,  sir." 

"  How  many  acres  are  there  in  your  father's 
farm  ?" 

"  Three  hundred.  One  hundred  is  grain  land, 
one  hundred  pasturage,  and  one  hundred  timber. 
The  pigs  fatten  themselves  upon  the  acorns  in 
the  woods.  The  wheat  is  near  to  a  good  market ; 
and  the  dairy  is  very  profitable  indeed.  Do  you 
see  that  cow  down  by  the  creek  ?  She  is  mine, 
and  my  especial  pet.  She  is  worth  five  hundred 
dollars ;  and  I'd  rather  have  her  than  a  set  of 
pearls.  Then  I  have  all  the  money  I  can  make 
from  selling  her  butter,  for  pocket-money. 
Now,  commend  me,  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  !  I  see  that 
you  are  of  an  eminently  practical  turn  of  mind  ; 


ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY.  297 

and  I  wish,  to  show  you  that  I  understand  all 
about  the  utilities." 

"  Such  beauty  with  such  sense  is  seldom  com 
bined,"  he  answered,  with  a  nourish  of  his  ratan, 
beginning  to  recover  his  spirits  after  the  dampen 
ing  effects  of  the  tear  in  his  breeches. 

At  this  instant,  that  old  Shanghai  chanticleer, 
whose  notes  are  so  famous  for  their  resemblance 
to  a  Chinese  gong,  from  which  he  probably  took 
lessons  in  his  infancy,  and  who,  by  some  extra 
feat  of  agility,  had  flown  from  the  fence  to  the 
nearest  branch  of  a  tree  wtich  hung  over  it,  and 
under  which  we  were  standing,  without  a  single 
flap  of  premonition  announced  high  noon  by  one 
of  his  sudden  and  unearthly  crows.  It  was  close 
by  our  ears,  and  startled  even  me.  You  ought 
to  have  seen  Eitz's  face.  He  looked  as  if  the 
earth  and  sky  were  coming  together,  and  he  did 
not  know  where  to  flee  for  safety. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Miss  "Wilmot,  what  was 
that?" 

"  Oh,  that  was  a  country  clock  striking  the 
hour  of  noon!"  I  answered,  gravely. 

"  Bless  me !  was  it  ?  Give  me  a  city  bell  " 
(perhaps  he  will  say  city  belle  by  this  time)  "  in 
preference.  How  it  jars  upon  one's  ears !  What 
13* 


298  ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE    COUNTRY. 

is  this  in  the  tree  above  us — an  owl.  Miss  "Wil 
mot?" 

"  That,  sir,  is  the  Chinese  Bird  of  Paradise." 

"Aw?" 

At  that  instant,  Betty  Stout  came  out  on  the 
back  porch,  and  blew  the  dinner  horn.  Betty  is 
the  daughter  of  a  man  who  helps  father  farm, 
and  who  comes  whenever  we  require  extra  ser 
vice  in  the  kitchen.  She  does  our  washing,  and ' 
makes  most  of  the  butter  and  cheese.  She  is  a 
good  girl,  with  a  Dutch  form,  and  sunburnt  arms 
and  face.  t  * 

"That  is  the  summons  to  dinner,"  said  I. 
And  we  wended  our  way  back  to  the  house. 

I  introduced  my  guest  to  father  and  mother  in 
the  dining-room.  Father  had  taken  the  trouble 
to  put  on  his  coat;  and  mother  had  donned  a 
cap  and  her  alpaca  dress.  They  shook  hands 
with  Mr.  Fitz  Foom,  who  made  some  excruciat 
ing  flourishes.  He  was  bent  upon  pleasing ;  but 
in  this  he  made  one  mistake.  I  introduced  him 
to  Miss  Betty  Stout — if  I  had  not,  she  would 
never  have  set  foot  in  the  house  again — and  he 
gave  her  so  cold  a  stare,  and  so  slight  a  bow,  that 
I  saw  at  once  she  was  offended.  We  sat  down 
to  table.  I  will  give  the  young  gentleman  the 


ME.    FITZ  FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY.  299 

credit  of  trying  not  to  appear  to  observe  our 
outre  arrangements ;  but  his  eyes  would  wander 
covertly  to  the  Britannia  coffee-pot,  the  steel 
forks,  and  to  the  form  of  Miss  Betsey,  who  sat 
opposite  him.  Two  or  three  times,  papa  gave  me 
such  a  sly  look,  and  a  jerk  of  the  thumb,  indicat 
ing  so  much  farmer-like  contempt  for  my  "  city 
beau,"  that  I  was  fain  to  laugh  in  my  sleeve. 

I  will  also  do  Mr.  Fitz  Fooin  the  justice  to 
declare  that  his  appetite  was  good,  despite  of  his 
dyspepsia;  and  that  he  pleased  mother  by  his 
appreciation  of  her  roast  chickens  with  fresh 
apple-sauce,  her  coffee  with  cream,  her  delightful 
butter,  honey,  warm  biscuits,  and  my  dessert  of 
custard,  apples,  walnuts,  etc.  If  he  could  have 
finished  off  with  a  bottle  of  sherry,  I  think  he 
would  have  been  content.  As  it  was,  he  sipped 
a  glass  of  papa's  cider-brandy  with  him,  and  for 
got,  for  a  time,  the  rent  in  his  trowsers. 

After  dinner,  mother  brought  her  work-basket, 
and  we  sat  down  in  the  front  room,  where  we 
had  been  talking  but  a  little  while,  when  a 
neighbor's  boy  came  in  to  ask  me  to  a  corn- 
husking  that  evening  at  Sally  Birch's.  I  was 
glad  of  the  bid,  for  I  was  beginning  to  dread  an 
evening  alone  with  Fitz  Foom. 


300  MK.    FITZ  FOOM   IN  THE   COUNTRY. 

"Shall  I  accept  for  us  both?  You  ought,  to 
go  to  a  country  corn-husking,  Mr.  Fitz  Foom. 
It  will  be  something  for  you  to  think  of  when 
you  get  back  to  the  opera." 

"Wherever  Miss  Lucy  leads,  I  shall  be  but 
too  happy  " 

His  speech  was  cut  short  by  his  eyes  falling 
upon  his  pantaloons.  If  he  went  to  a  country 
party,  he  wished  to  be  able  to  dazzle  all  eyes ; 
and  how  could  he  with  that  hole  staring  him  in 
the  face  ? 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that !"  said  my  good  mother, 
who  saw  his  difficulty.  "  I  can  mend  that  in  ten 
minutes,  and  press  it  out  so  that  it  will  never  be 
seen.  Will  you  go  to  your  room,  now,  and  leave 
your  pantaloons  on  the  balusters  ?" 

We  all  laughed  at  the  idea ;  but,  as  there  was 
no  other,  way,  my  elegant  visitor  retired  to  the 
shades  of  his  private  apartment,  while  mother 
mended  his  breeches.  Just  as  she  had  finished 
darning  them,  and  had  gone  into  the  kitchen  to 
press  them  out,  there  came  another  knock  at  the 
door.  I  opened  it,  and  there — but  of  course  you 
know  who  was  there !  What  an  inveterate  tease 
you  are,  uncle,  to  send  two  young  gentlemen  to 
this  house  on  the  same  day  to  play  at  cross  pur- 


ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY.  301 

poses !  I  suppose  I  need  not  be  afraid  to  confide 
to  my  good  old  bachelor  uncle  that  I  was  glad 
there  was  no  one  by  to  detect  the  blush  with 
which  I  welcomed  my  Highland  Chief.  I  was 
expecting  him,  and  had  prepared  my  parents  to 
expect  him,  but  not  so  soon. 

I  do  not  know  which  of  the  two  was  the  more 
astonished  when  the  other  gentleman  reappeared. 
Neither  of  them  seemed  particularly  charmed 
with  the  other.  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  entertain 
them  until  tea ;  and  silence  would  have  fallen  on 
us  more  than  once,  if  dear  mother  had  not  come 
to  the  rescue  with  her  pleasant  and  sensible 
observations. 

The  tea  hour  came  at  last.  It  was  with  a 
tremor,  that  almost  made  my  Voice  falter,  that  I 
introduced  my  last  guest  to  father.  I  was  afraid 
of  his  keen  eyes  and  solid  judgment.  Yet  I  do 
not  know  that  I  had  so  much  cause  for  fear.  My 
Chief  entered  at  once  into  conversation  with  a 
dignity  and  courtesy  very  becoming  under  the 
circumstances.  I  knew  papa  was  pleased,  when 
I  saw  his  brow  expand,  and  his  glance  grow 
more  smiling. 

Immediately  after  tea,  it  was  time  to  start  for 
the  husking,  as  we  had  nearly  a  mile  to  walk, 


302  ME.   FITZ  FOOM  IN   TELE   COUNTRY. 

and  were  expected  early,  the  work  being  an  im 
portant  part  of  tlie  evening's  entertainment. 

Betty  Stout  was  one  of  our  party,  of  course. 
She  is  an  independent  piece,  considering  herself 
as  good  as  anybody,  and  is  treated  as  such  by  all 
the  neighbors.  She  was  going  to  start  on  in  ad 
vance,  and  leave  me  with  my  "  city  fellows ;" 
but  my  Chief  stepped  forward  with  so  much  res 
pect,  and  offered  her  his  arm,  that  she  could  not 
refuse  it.  As  for  me,  I  admired  the  way  in 
which  the  action  was  performed  so  highly,  that 
I  scarcely  regretted  my  own  disappointment. 

"  How  very  barbarous  it  is  for  people  in  the 
country  to  associate  so  intimately  with  their  ser 
vants  !"  whispered  my  companion. 

"  Miss  Stout  is  not  a  common  servant,"  I  said, 
in  excuse. 

There  were  plenty  of  whispering  and  wise 
glances  among  the  crowd,  when  we  arrived  at  the 
barn — for  corn-soirees  are  held  in  barns,  my  dear 
uncle.  The  girls  looked  pleased,  and  the  beaux 
jealous,  as  the  strangers  were  introduced  to 
them. 

A  circle  had  already  been  formed  around  the 
heap  of  corn  in  the  centre  of  the  floor;  and, 
after  a  few  moments'  bustle,  places  were  made 


ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY.  303 

for  us,  and  we  set  to  work.  Brimming  with  mis 
chief  (shall  I  write  it,  spite  ?)  and  totally  regard 
less  of  Mr.  Fitz  Foom's  pleading  looks,  I  gave 
him  a  seat  on  the  floor  beside  Miss  Prudence 
Tattle,  a  thin  old  maid,  who  prided  herself  prin 
cipally  upon  her  learning  and  accomplishments, 
so  superior  to  most  of  her  friends  and  acquaint 
ances.  Myself  and  the  Highlander  were  esta 
blished  near  at  hand,  wrhere  I  could  enjoy  some 
of  Mr.  Fitz's  queer  faces,  and  a  part  of  Miss 
Prudence's  instructive  conversation.  "  Ah  me  !" 
I  heard  her  remarking,  and  signalled  to  my 
companion  to  listen ;  "so  you  have  ac^wally 
resided  in  the  city  all  your  life,  Mr.  Fitz  Fool  ?" 

"  Foom,  madam,"  corrected  he. 

"  Foom  ?  I  ~beg  your  pardon.  How  very  en 
lightened  such  a  long  residence  in  the  metropolan 
must  render  you !  Ah,  I  have  ever  sighed  for 
opportunities  of  expanding  my  mind.  And  so 
much  chance  for  doing  "good,  too  !  I  was  in  the 
city,  last  year,  for  a  few  days.  I  visited  the 
Society  for  the  Relief  of  Indignant  Women,  and 
contrived  fifty  cents.  I  went  to  the  opera,  too. 
Oh  me !  isn't  it  delightful  ?  I  was  so  perfectly 
vaccinated  by  Madame  Lagrange's  voice,  that  I 
did  not  know  where  I  was.  She  has  a  beautiful 


304:  ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY. 

mezzotinto  voice  of  the  first  quality.  She  is  rich, 
too.  The  gentleman  who  took  me  told  me  she 
had  a  chest  full  of  notes,  and  a  register,  besides. 
Oh,  she  has  great  volubility  of  tone !  don't  you 
think  so?  Mercy!  Mr.  Fitz  Foom!  if  you 
haven't  got  a  red  ear !" 

She  screamed  the  last  sentence  out  so  loudly, 
that  we  all  heard  it,  and  paused  from  our  tasks. 
Her  companion  looked  as  if  he  might  have  two 
red  ears. 

"  Do  you  know  the  penalty  ?"  eagerly  inquired 
Miss  Prudence. 

"I  must  confess  my  ignorance,"  was  the 
reply. 

"Tell  him!  tell  him!"  laughed  half  a  dozen 
pretty  girls. 

"  It  is  to  kiss  every  girl  in  the  room,  beginning 
with  your  partner,"  chuckled  Miss  Prudence. 
And  she  puckered  up  her  sharp  mouth  into  a 
hundred  wrinkles,  as  she  turned,  with  a  winning 
smile,  to  receive  the  salute. 

Poor  fellow  !  he  hesitated ;  the  boys  laughed ; 
the  girls  tittered ;  Miss  Prudence  puckered  up 
her  mouth  still  more  sweetly.  He  looked  again 
at  those  lips,  then  bent  and  kissed  her  hand  most 
gallantly ;  but  Miss  Tattle  was  evidently  disap- 


ME.    FITZ  FOOM  IN   THE   COUNTRY.  305 

pointed,  I  will  confess  that  lie  did  up  the  rest 
of  the  kissing  more  con  amore  y  but,  when  he 
came  to  me,  I  gave  him  my  hand  ;  and  he  was 
obliged  to  treat  me  as  he  did  Miss  Prudence. 

When  it  came  to  the  dancing,  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  evening,  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  was  still  unfortu 
nate.  He  did  not  understand  "  Money-Musk  " 
nor  "  Scotch  Reel."  I  danced  two  cotillions  with 
him  ;  and  the  rest  of  the  time  he  was  entertained 
by  Miss  Tattle  in  the  corner. 

Well,  the  next  day,  misfortunes  seemed  still  to 
pursue  him.  I  proposed  a  ride  on  horseback, 
between  breakfast  and  dinner,  as  the  weather 
was  delightful,  full  of  the  balm  and  brightness 
of  Indian  summer.  As  Mr.  Fitz  Foom  had  been 
boasting  of  his  feats  at  the  riding-academy,  he 
could  not  very  well  decline.  You  know  father 
keeps  fine  horses ;  and,  as  he  gathered  from  the 
young  gentleman's  own  story  that  he  w^as  a 
famous  rider,  he  gave  him  one  of  his  most 
spirited  animals.  I  rode  my  beautiful "  Brownie ;" 
and  my  Highlander  had  the  black  horse  that 
you  used  to  ride.  We  called  at  neighbor  Grey's, 
and  got  his  pretty  Amy  to  accompany  us.  We 
were  all  in  fine  spirits.  Amy  was  such  a  gay 
little  gipsy,  she  delighted  us  all.  But,  as  Mr. 
Fitz's  horse  became  inspirited  by  exercise,  and 


306  ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY. 

we  left  the  macadamized  road  for  the  winding 
and  sometimes  rocky  by-roads,  which  took  us 
through  a  more  romantic  part  of  the  country,  I 
saw  that  the  poor  fellow  had  all  he  could  do  to 
hold  on.  He  ceased  to  jest;  he  ceased  to  pay 
compliments ;  he  grew  silent,  for  all  his  energies 
were  absorbed  in  clinging  to  his  bridle  and  stir 
rups,  and  occasionally  to  his  horse's  neck  and 
mane.  Amy  proposed  a  race.  We  started,  not 
withstanding  Fitz's  entreaties  to  "  Hold  on !" 

"  He's  c  holding  on '  fast  enough  for  us  all," . 
laughed  Amy. 

His  horse,  more  ambitious  than  his  master,  was 
to  be  distanced  by  nothing  in  that  party,  and 
soon  passed  us  all  in  gallant  style,  with  his  rider's 
arms  about  his  neck.  A  sudden  turn  in  the 
forest  road  took  him  out  of  sight;  and,  when  we 
finally  came  up  with  him,  he  was  sitting  by  the 
roadside  on  a  stump,  holding  "  Bedouin  "  by  the 
bridle.  Whether  he  had  been  thrown,  or  got  off 
of  his  own  accord,  he  did  not  say.  He  only 
begged  to  exchange  horses  with  the  other  gentle 
man,  as  "  Bedouin  "  was  so  very  hard  under  the 
saddle  that  he  was  tired  out.  We  rode  home 
slowly,  and  found  dinner  waiting.  Amy  dined 
with  us. 

Immediately  after  the  meal  was  over,  Mr.  Fitz 


ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY.  307 

Foom  was  obliged  to  take  to  the  sofa.  He  was 
unable  to  make  the  exertion  of  waiting  upon 
Amy  home ;  so  we  left  him  to  a  siesta,  and 
escorted  our  fair  friend  to  her  door. 

"What  was  said  upon  that  memorable  return 
walk,  I  shall  never  hint — never,  to  my  sober  old 
bachelor  uncle !  A  sudden  glory,  that  was  not 
all  effected  by  the  Indian  summer  sunshine,  came 
down  upon  the  world.  But  no  sentimentality  to 
be  laughed  at  by  an  old  fogy  uncle !  So  I  shall 
not  tell  you  any  more,  if  you  tease  me  ever  so 
much.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  that  evening  my 
Highlander  gave  papa  the  letter  which  you  sent 
him ;  and  he  and  mother  sat  up  late  in  the  din 
ing-room,  before  the  wood  fire,  reading  and  talk 
ing  it  over. 

Mr.  Fitz  Foom  tried  hard,  that  evening,  to 
outsit  his  rival  in  regular  country  style.  He  was 
evidently  afraid  that  the  path  was  not  quite 
clear.  But  the  fatigue  of  his  ride  overpowered 
him ;  and  secretly  borrowing  of  mother  a  bottle 
of  Reacly  Relief  for  some  bruise  which  he  may 
have  received  by  that  unseen  downfall,  he  retired 
in  distress  and  disgust. 

O 

Another  very  bright  day  followed  on.  Fitz 
seemed  in  better  spirits,  and  declared  a  desire  to 


308  ME.    FITZ   FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY. 

become  somewhat  better  acquainted  with  some 
of  the  details  of  country  life.  A  visit  to  the 
cheese-press,  the  dairy-house,  the  "  aviary,"  the 
cider-mill,  and  the  great  barn  was  proposed. 
We  strolled  about  from  spot  to  spot ;  and  I  aston 
ished  my  exquisite  Fitz  by  vivid  descriptions  of 
sundry  slides  down  the  straw  stack,  and  rides 
upon  "  Sukey's  "  back,  and  childish  feats  in  that 
great  juvenile  gymnasium,  that  paradise  of  child 
ren — the  barn. 

When  we  entered  the  aforementioned  barn,  we 
found  father  and  his ,  men  at  work  there  getting 
ready  for  our  corn-husking.  Father  left  off  to 
call  us  out  in  the  yard,  and  expatiate  upon  his 
stock.  Everybody  has  his  weakness,  and  dear 
papa's  is  his  fine  stock.  He  pointed  out  a  pair 
of  noble  Devonshire  oxen  that  were  ranging  in 
the  meadow  opening  out  of  the  barnyard,  and  my 
dear  little  cow,  "  Sukey,"  with  four  or  five  others, 
who  were  at  the  water-trough.  He  has  about 
twenty  merinoes ;  -and,  wishing  to  show  to  my 
Highlander  (who  pleased  him  by  talking  under- 
standingly  with  him)  the  superior  quality  of  the 
wool,  he  called  them  out  of  the  field ;  and  they 
came  running  for  the  salt  which  they  expected  to 
find  in  his  hand. 


ME.    FITZ   FOCX^IN   THE   COUNTRY.  309 

"  What  are  those  creatures  ?"  asked  Mr.  Fitz 
Foom,  affectedly,  as  the  flock  came  running  and 
crowding  about. 

"  Those  are  sheep." 

"  Aw  !  are  they,  indeed  ?  This  is  the  first  time 
I  ever  beheld  a  genuine  specimen  of  those  pasto 
ral  animals,  so  conspicuous  in  poetry  and  rural 
scenes.  Sheep,  aw  ?" 

I  know  not  whether  the  veteran  leader  of  the 
flock  took  offence  at  this  declaration  of  a  pre 
vious  neglect  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  tribe,  or 
whether  the  red  scarf  which  Mr  Fitz  had  thrown 
over  his  shoulders  upon  coming  out,  excited  his  ire, 
but  at  that  instant  I  saw  him  lowering  his  horns, 
and  had  just  time  to  exclaim  "  Take  care !"  when 
he  hit  Fitz  a  square  blow  in  the  stomach,  which 
prostrated  him  quick  as  thought.  Before  he 
could  make  another  spring,  Fitz  was  on  his  feet, 
and  took  refuge  in  the  barn.  The  fiery  merino 
was  after  him;  and  they  both  disappeared 
through  the  opposite  door.  We  all  started  in 
pursuit,  hoping  to  arrest  the  offender. 

Three  times  the  two  made  the  circuit  of  the 
barn.  Fitz's  scarf  streamed  out  behind,  adding 
fury  to  the  hot  pursuit.  Father  did  his  best  to 
knock  the  beast  down  with  a  rail,  but  could  not 


310 


MB.    FITZ    FOOM    IN  *THE    COUNTRY. 


come  near  him.  We  all  formed  a  line,  and 
attempted  to  head  him  off;  but  he  broke  through 
oiir  midst,  after  a  -  momentary  parley.  This 
moment  of  grace  enabled  Fitz  to  make  for  the 


field ;  but  the  gate  was  open,  and  he  was  too 
frightened  to  close  it.  The  Shanghais  crowed, 
the  sheep  bleated,  the  cows  paused  from  their 
drink  in  astonishment ;  Betty  Stout,  who  hated 


ME.   FITZ  FOOM  IN  THE   COUNTEY.  311 

poor  Fitz  for  Ms  slight  of  her,  sprang  up  on  the 
fence,  and  laughed,  and  clapped  her  hands. 

When  he  had  got  well  into  the  meadow,  Fitz 
turned  to  see  if  he  were  safe :  but,  oh,  horror  of 
horrors  I  not  only  was  the  ram  close  at  his  heels, 
but  "  Sukey,"  the  big  oxen,  the  sheep,  and  horses 
had  all  joined  in  the  general  stampede,  and  were 
tearing  up  the  grass  in  every  direction.  With  a 
shriek  of  terror,  he  dropped  to  the  ground ;  he 
"  could  no  more ;"  he  had  fainted  from  sheer 
affright.  Father,  who  was  still  sanguine  of  a 
rescue,  came  up  to  him  just  as  the  ram,  disap 
pointed  in  his.  calculation  by  the  sudden  fall, 
went  over  his  prostrate  body,  and,  awed  by 
papa's  club,  gave  up  the  chase. 

Poor  Fitz !  his  clothes  were  pretty  well  used  up, 
and  his  strength  completely  so.  He  took  to  his 
bed,  with  but  a  poor  appetite  for  the  dainties  my 
compassionate  mother  cooked  up  for  him.  This 
morning,  he  packed  his  carpet-bag,  and  bade  us 
farewell.  "  I  had  inducements  held  out  to  me 
by  Mr.  "Wilmot  to  come  here,"  he  said,  as  he. 
bade  me  a  cold  good  bye;  "  but  they  are  not  suffi 
cient  to  attract  me  to  remain  in  the  country.  I 
consider  it  both  vulgar  and  dangerous,  but  am 
glad  if  you  find  it  to  your  taste.  ISTo :  I  thank 


312  MK.    FITZ  FOOM   IN   THE   COUNTRY. 

you  for  your  polite  invitations ;  but  I  shall  not 
trouble  you  with,  further  visits." 

"  Will  you  not  even  come  to  the  wedding  ?" 
asked  my  Highlander,  with  what  I  must  consider 
rather  ungenerous  kindness. 

A  glance  of  anger  and  a  stiff  bow  were  the 
only  answer.  ]$Tow,  uncle,  if  it  is  true,  as  I  have 
been  told,  that  you  encouraged  him  to  come,  and 
that  he  got  trusted  for  his  new  suit  of  clothes  on 
the  strength  of  his  expected  success,  I  think  you 
are  in  honor  bound  to  pay  for  the  suit  which  he 
ruined,  and  to  make  him  a  present  of  another 
besides. 

My  Highland  Chief  has  not  yet  departed,  and 
is  grumbling  because  I  have  given  you  so  much 
time.  Isn't  that  ungrateful  of  him  ?  Father  and 
mother  send  much  love.  I  expect  to  be  in  the 
city  before  long  to  do  a  little  shopping,  when  I 
shall  need  your  advice  in  choosing  certain — but 
good  bye,  with  many  kisses. 

Yours  affectionately, 

•  LUCY. 


THE    END. 


. 


s 

University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

The  Theodore  H.  Koundakjian 

Collection 
of  American  Humor 


